


Interview With The Jellicle

by Purplesprout



Series: Munkustrap [3]
Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Babies, Cat/Human Hybrids, Cats, Gen, Interviews, London, Magic, Multi, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:04:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplesprout/pseuds/Purplesprout
Summary: In this interview, the Jellicle Cat Munkustrap talks candidly to journalist Zara Forbes about his life, his job and his family. Zara also gets to meet the rest of the Jellicle tribe, but not all of them are friendly.





	Interview With The Jellicle

Interview With The Jellicle

 

Zara Forbes for Fullmoon Magazine.  
I am here at Thames Scrapyard at five o'clock in the evening in order to conduct an up close and personal interview with a very special person indeed. Special, because he is part of a tribe of cats, known as the Jellicle cats, who have chosen to take up residence here in amongst the cacophony of debris and rubble which has been piled high within the confines of the towering breezeblock walls, thus calling this place their home.  
I am keen to find out more about them, so, prior to our interview, I met up with their chief at the entrance to the aforementioned scrapyard, and as usual, this being England, the sky looked like opaque smoke swirling around the inside of a glass bottle, reaching it’s murky tendrils down from the heavens with the sole purpose of plastering every available surface in a sugar dusting of drizzle, also rendering the surrounding air a perm’s worst nightmare!   
“Here goes!” I thought, feeling rather doltish at the possibility of attempting to communicate with a cat. I addressed the surprisingly handsome silver Tabby type cat, who was sitting on the wall, distractedly washing himself by licking his paw and wiping it across his face. “Are you Munkustrap?” I asked with uncertainty, and to my utter astonishment, he glanced at me mid-lick, stood up and shook a plume of fuzzy spray from his water bejewelled coat, before meowing in a tone that appeared to convey,   
“Greetings human, yes, it is I.” He arched his back with a satisfied yawn and stretched out his legs, before briefly tilting his head skywards as if to sarcastically comment, “My, what lovely weather this is, wouldn’t you agree?” Then he jumped down off of the wall, the soft pads of his paws making a soft ‘thud!’ as they impacted with the damp pavement and began to walk purposefully through the open gate, turning back to meow at me again, appearing to say, “Follow me please!” So I followed his stripy tail as he held it aloft like a beacon, leading the way down a path which was walled in on both sides by piles of scrap metal bits and bobs as well as plastic this and that, navigating the undulating, twisting and turning terrain until I began to feel quite disorientated, especially when I was led down several muddy side tracks. After walking for some time, the cat suddenly braced himself and leapt a sheer vertical wall of junk up to a platform above. Now let’s just think about that for a second, shall we? Let’s just say that I possessed the same gravity defying ability that that cat had just displayed, except that, instead of being three feet tall I was five feet tall? Then that would be the equivalent of me jumping to the top of an average telegraph pole! Hence, it was hardly surprising really when, for a brief moment, I began to feel a twinge of apprehension, that this was possibly all a big mistake and what I was actually doing was making a complete fool of myself by partaking in this mad goose chase, running after a cat who was in actual fact just trying to get away from this strange human who just so happened to be following him! On second thoughts I needn't have fretted, because a minute later a rope ladder was thrown down to me and I heard another meow echoing from somewhere high above my head, which I took to mean, “You may climb up now!” My wide eyes took in the rather flimsy rope, the height at which I was being expected to climb to (in my heels I might add!) and the not-very-stable looking pile of junk that it was all perched on top of! If that wasn’t enough, without warning, my vision suddenly blurred and my world shifted out of focus for a brief moment.   
“That’s odd!” I thought to myself, feeling confused and just a tad alarmed, “am I having a stroke or something? That would be just my luck!” I rubbed my eyes and when I opened them again I noticed that everything around me seemed to have become inordinately larger, the small hillocks of odds and ends having suddenly turned into mountains, with the rope ladder now seeming to stretch up into the Heavens themselves. Or was just it possible that Dave Stockley, my photographer, and I had in fact, shrunk? No! It wasn’t possible! Was it? I sighed, taking off my heels and handing them to Dave before taking a deep breath and grasping the ropes with my manicured fingers. “The things I’ll do for a good story!” I thought, “This is no time for health and safety that’s for sure!”   
Eventually and with no small amount of relief, my photographer and I made it to the platform where, in front of us, stood what looked like a small shed made out of wooden planks, bricks and cement with other odds and ends embedded within it, such as marbles, bits of broken teapot, bone china cups, plates, a wine bottle and even a doll’s head. A sheet of corrugated iron covered the roof and an upturned metal bucket with a hole in it served as a chimney. This had a steady plume of smoke rising out of it, but that was the only thing which gave it away, for the shed camouflaged so well with the wall of scrap that, had Munkustrap not led me to it, I would have walked straight passed without even knowing that it was there. The wooden door was wide open, inviting us to come in, so we made our way through the low entrance and emerged into a relatively cavernous, but sparsely furnished space, with blankets and cushions spread higgledy piggledy at one end, which I assumed, was a makeshift bed. At the other end was an old cast iron stove, with its flue rising up through the roof, connecting, once again I assumed, with the bucket chimney. But it was the creature who was busying himself in front of this stove that made me stop and stare, for the Tabby ‘cat’, who had stood just above my knee, had disappeared, only to be replaced by a human-like cat ‘man’ who towered at least ten inches above my miniscule five foot frame. At least, I thought I was five feet tall the last time I checked! So how could it be possible that I was only twenty five centimetres tall now? Without looking up at us, the ‘cat’ said in a clear, concise voice,   
“Ah! You made it! Good!” For some reason, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he spoke, maybe I just wasn't expecting it! He motioned me to a wooden box with a couple of cushions placed on top on it and three mugs of freshly made steaming hot tea, which had been placed on top of a second wooden box which served as a makeshift table. As if in a kind of trance, I slowly made my way over to the be-cushioned box and perched on top of it, before selecting two mugs and handing one to my equally stunned looking photographer, then allowing myself take a grateful sip out of mine. The tabby didn’t seem to be aware of our sudden drastic change in appearance, or if he was he didn’t seem to be particularly bothered about it, which I thought was most peculiar.   
“Munkustrap?” At the mention of his name, he glanced up at me with his ears pricked forward in intrigued anticipation, “Why do we appear to have shrunk?” I asked.  
“I have allowed the magic of the Junkyard to be revealed to you,” he replied, matter of factly, “I have not changed, for my feline form is merely an illusion, a disguise as it were. You are in fact, seeing me in my true form and the Junkyard how it is really meant to be seen. Do not be alarmed, for at dawn, the spell will be broken.”  
“Uhuh,” I managed to nod and decided to pretend that I had understood the information that had descended on my disbelieving ears, because, for all the sense he had made, he might as well have just told me that the moon was made of cheese, the Earth was flat, and rainbows were in actual fact, leprechaun heltaskelters. Having mentally just thrown out my textbook on physics, I was no longer certain about what I believed anymore, but I quickly resolved that it would probably be best if I kept an open mind, while calmly going along for the ride and, who knows, maybe I would start to enjoy it?   
“Do you take sugar?” he asked, looking worried all of a sudden, “I know how much you humans love the stuff…”  
“Nah yer alright mate!” Dave kindly reassured him, toasting the Tabby with his mug, “S’a good brew! Strong and milky, proper job!” At that, the Tabby’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as if he had just been paid the best compliment ever.  
“That is a relief,” he said with a smile, “owing to the fact that I am not the proud owner of a sweet tooth, and so therefore see no reason to keep any in stock. I also do not receive many human visitors, in fact, you two are the first!” Picking up his own mug he carefully took a sip, before setting it back down on top of the ‘table’, then he settled himself down and waited expectantly for me to begin the interview.

The Jellicle Cat sits opposite me in a worn black leather chair, with his long, toned legs folded underneath him, his large, half lidded eyes gazing unblinkingly at me, the colour of them swirling from an opalescent blue/green Caribbean Apatite to glittering gold Citrine like ink in a genie bottle. They are framed with black ‘mascara lines’ which really make them stand out against his silvery features, while the black slits of his pupils are slightly dilated in the rapidly fading light. Outwardly he appears to be relaxed, the only indications that he might be anything otherwise coming from his large tufted ears, which always seem to be on the alert as though they have a mind of their own. I watch as they swivel like radar in the direction of the slightest whisker of a sound that my own ears have failed to detect, whilst a soft thumping noise directs my attention to his long silver and black banded tail which is flicking softly against the seat, shedding a few scintillating hairs and sending them wafting into the air. Cutting a rather imposing figure, with his broad chest, well defined shoulders and muscular arms, I am willing to hazard a guess that there isn't an awful lot out there that would be foolhardy enough to get on the wrong side of him! His large paw-like hands are black and his silver coat is so lustrous that it shimmers when it catches the light, contrasting with the bold marbling of glossy black stripes which flow asymmetrically in rivulets down his back, across his flanks, swirling in little eddies around his shoulders, clawing around the outside of his face and meeting up to form an 'M' motif on his forehead, whilst around his neck, he wears a smart black collar with diamond shaped metal studs and a metal d-ring which I think compliments his overall look beautifully. Whether or not this was accidental I am not sure, but one thing is for certain, and that is that he is incredibly striking, with a presence which makes you want to focus the whole of your attention on him, at least this is my excuse for staring at him like a hypnotised goldfish and I’m sticking to it! I hope he doesn’t think me rude, since his expression remains unintelligible and to that, he makes no effort to put me at ease either. If anything I would say he seems to be a little bit annoyed, or is that just the way all cats make you feel when they look at you with accusing eyes as if you've done something to offend them? Those scrutinising eyes of his, though gorgeous to look at, seem to be boring into mine as if they could be sifting through my very soul and I get the sensation of butterflies fluttering around my stomach as I shift nervously in my seat, igniting within me a feeling of humble respect towards this majestic feline, which I can appreciate he may be very much deserving of, since I doubt that he is the kind of person to take any kind of codswallop from anyone, let alone me!

I offer him a friendly smile, which, while clearly acknowledged, is not returned, so instead I put on my best confident face. This is my first time interviewing a cat after all!   
"Good evening Munkustrap."

"Good evening to you."

"Thank you so much for agreeing to do this and for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk to us, it really is an honour. I'd first like to start off by asking you a bit about yourself, such as how old you are and where you are from?"

"I think I am about seven or eight, which would be roughly twenty seven in your years, but I am not certain about that, because I do not know when I was born, you see. I was born right here in Central London, though some of us come from farther afield."

"So, what exactly is a Jellicle cat?"

"Well first and foremost I am a cat, let's get that straight, but what sets us apart from other felines is that we are intelligent, self aware and, most of all, educated, for we can read and write, sing, dance and act. We take our education very seriously and I believe that it is an important factor in one of our other traits, which is that we tend to develop more slowly than other cats do. Kittens can enjoy their kitten hoods for that much longer and we in turn enjoy longer lives than those of our ordinary feline neighbours. We also have our own customs and rules that we live by, but we never forget that we are, at our hearts, cats, with Old Deuteronomy as our elder. He is our wise teacher, mentor and legend has it that many years ago, a deity known as The Everlasting Cat, came down to Earth and instructed him to set up a tribe called the Jellicle cats, whereupon each year he was to select a cat to be sent to the Heaviside Layer in order to be reborn again into a different Jellicle Life. And thus, the Jellicle Ball was set up so that cats could prove that they were worthy of being chosen. But alas, he has yet to choose me!"

“What is the Heaviside Layer and why do you want to go there?”

“I do not know exactly, because of course I have never been, since it is a place reserved only for those who are specifically chosen. I suppose it must be a bit like your human equivalent, Heaven isn’t it? Except that it is exclusive to Jellicle cats. By the way, would you mind if I asked you, what is Heaven like?”

“Of course I don’t mind Munkustrap! Well I’m not at all religious, but from what I hear it is a really nice place where, like, we get to be with God, his angels and our loved ones forever, provided that we worship the Christian faith and live a sin free life of course! Also there’s no sickness or suffering or anything…”

“It does sound a little boring if I’m honest, but don’t take that as a bad thing, because, personally I feel like it would suit me rather well, for if I could bask in the sunshine on top of God’s throne forevermore? Well now, that sounds like my kind of Heaven! Besides, the other options are far less appealing. There is Hell, for instance, which sounds awful, wandering the Earth as a ghost for all eternity, which can’t be much fun, or you can get trapped in a horrible place which is affectionately known as Doomnation, but is actually more commonly called the Astral Plane. That was where I ended up, but that is another story!”

“Do you want to tell us a bit about that?”

“Not really no.”

“OK no worries! Here’s my next question. Are you magic?”

“All Jellicles are magic. We possess particular powers that fit the job that we do, therefore mine would not be considered particularly spectacular. My son, Mistoffelees, on the other paw, wields the most amazingly flamboyant powers that one could ever imagine, I mean, he is truly breathtaking when he gets it right and he can do things that I can only dream of being able to do. Having said that, he is still quite young, so is still getting to grips with his phenomenal talents, but when he is fully able to master them, he will be unstoppable, provided that he uses his magic for good and not for evil like his uncle does. Old Deuteronomy is the only one of us who is able to speak directly to the Everlasting Cat and has the power to call down the stairway to the Heaviside Layer, which maybe someday, I too will have the power to do. I am currently working on trying to withstand my older brother’s powers of hypnosis, which he uses to brainwash other cats in order to get them to do his bidding, and also managed to incapacitate me at one of the previous Jellicle Balls. Not going to happen again, I can assure you! I shall also let you into a little secret, which not many people know about,” he continues, lowering his voice to a whisper as if worried that there might be eavesdroppers, “the Junkyard itself is magic! In fact, sometimes it seems like it has a mind of its own and it is this magic which enables us do to such extraordinary things. My son understands this better than I do, but allegedly, this whole area is one big magical hotspot, and these hotspots, although extremely rare, can occur anywhere in the world, but where they do occur, you are bound to find the weird and wonderful. However, they can also be places of terrible foreboding, for I have heard equal tales of mythical beasts and immortal heroes coupled with tales of disaster and people disappearing without a trace. Unfortunately, it is this well of potential power that makes this area so sort after by the likes of my brother Macavity, for having had a taste for it, he now wishes to couvert it for himself, making it my duty to try to prevent him from doing so at all costs, seeing as the consequences of him taking over this Junkyard would be potentially catastrophic!”

“How fascinating! Do you have any special talents that set you apart from the other Jellicles?”

“None that I can think of, why?”

“A little bird tells me that you can do impressions?”

In a chillingly deep, rasping voice he replies, “I do not know where you get such nonsense from human, I am not sure I like you. I think you should die now.” On seeing my shocked expression, he grins. “Only joking!” he says in his normal voice.

“Who was that an impression of?”

“My older brother Macavity. I can do my younger-by-a-few-seconds brother too if you’d like?” In a slightly higher pitched, conceited voice he says, “the name is Rum Tum Tugger, actually The one and only Rum Tum Tugger, the most irritating nincompoop that ever lived and unless I am very much mistaken that coat does not match your handbag.” He chuckles, and in his normal voice says, “I think that might be enough impressions for one day don’t you?”

“Can you do any more?”

“How long have you got?”

“Oh go on, just one more! Please?”

“Oh alright! See if you can guess this one!” He cups his paws to his mouth and emits a loud “Hoooot hoot ho-ho-hoo hoooot!” That sounds a lot like…

“A male tawny owl?”

He smiles. “Well it would have been rather embarrassing if you had gotten that wrong! Mainly for me!” 

"How would you describe yourself and the job that you do?"

"I am the official Jellicle Protector and Guardian of the Junkyard, which means that the be-all-and-end-all of my job to make sure that everyone is safe and that the magic of the Junkyard stays out of the wrong paws. At the Jellicle Ball I act as narrator and a kind of bodyguard to my father, because he is so precious to us, but at the same time, incredibly vulnerable too due to his great age. I also take care of the kittens, many of which are mine. You might say that I am the one in charge, but really I'm not, for this job was bestowed on me by Old Deuteronomy and I take it very seriously, for the tribe is my life and I will lay down my life to protect if that is what is asked of me."

“How does one go about becoming an Official Jellicle Protector?”

“Training to become a Guardian of the Junkyard, which all tom kittens receive, begins as soon as we are able to walk, but a select few are also picked out for extra training. We are taught how to fight and we learn about Jellicle law, as well as how to administer basic first aid. We are also trained to be fluent in a few foreign languages, such as Pollicle, Human English, pigeon and rat, henceforth our training continues until the current Protector either retires or dies. When that happens, candidates for the official Protector position must undergo a series of rigorous trials, which have been dubbed ‘The Labours Of Heracles’, and for good reason, as their sole purpose is to establish who has what it takes and who has not. Not just any old Tom, Dick or Harry can become a Protector you know, for only the best of the best will do and, because places very seldom come up, there can be a great many applicants all hoping to prove themselves. The tribe’s queens preside over the tests, which come in a sequence, and those who do not make the grade are knocked out at each stage, whittling down the numbers until only two candidates remain and they then face a final test, in which they must fight, with whoever wins getting the backing of the queens, plus the right to choose a second and third in command, as well as a well earned break! On top of all of that, the queens are also scrutinising not just whether you are able to perform the tasks, but also how you perform them, for those who are seen to be overly cocky or selfish for instance, are immediately disqualified, for, at the end of the day, the queens make the final decision regardless of how many tasks you complete.”

“So could you describe some of the tests?”

“There are a total of fourteen grueling tests overall. The first is a test for stamina and determination which tends to root out the weaker candidates in one fell swoop, as it entails a marathon run around London, followed by a swim across the Thames and back again, all the while you have to complete the course within a set time limit as well. If you manage to survive that, there are then equally appalling tests for speed, agility, strength, intelligence, problem solving whilst under pressure (try solving a complicated algebra equation whilst standing on one leg on top of a ten foot pole!), reflexes, quick thinking, patience (which involves making one hundred origami cranes in under an hour), pain tolerance (walking over hot coals as slowly as possible), balance (how does a tightrope walk across a ten foot gap sound?) and bravery, culminating in a final interview where you have to convince the committee of queens that you are qualified to meet the demands of Jellicle Protector. The Protector Trials, as they are officially called, last for one month and I can remember mine as though it was yesterday, for my trials took place exactly two years after Poseidon’s death, once I had come of age, and by the end of it, only my brother Macavity and I remained. In fact he won the final battle between us, but, because I had scored higher on the majority of the other tests, the queens decided to choose me as the next Protector instead of him. I accepted and thus, ended the close friendship that we had had up until that point, for he never forgave me for taking what he thought was rightfully his.”

“I hear that you are a bit of a workaholic, for on top of your Protector duties, you also have other jobs, is this true?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, don’t you do a bit of writing?”

“Where are you getting all this from? I have written a couple of crime novels that’s all, under the pen name Jade Jackson, it was just a bit fun really.”

“Wait. YOU’RE Jade Jackson? No way! I LOVED those books! Please say you’re going to write another one! What happens to Inspector Morpheus Snider? Does he solve another crime?”

“I am flattered that you like them! Incidentally, I have started on the third book in the series, but I don’t get a lot of time to sit down and write at the moment, mainly because of...other commitments. I am afraid that it doesn’t even have a title yet, but I can tell you that there may be another gruesome murder to solve!”

“And tell me about your recording contract.”

“My recording contract?”

“Yes! Your recording contract! It’s with someone called Junkyard Records isn’t it?”

“You have really done your research haven’t you? Yes, Junkyard Records was a record label set up by a friend of mine. We made an album under my stage name, Reece Silver, and I did it with my brother Tugger, who likes to be known as Leopold Cortez for some ostentatious reason. The album is called Silver and Cortez Cats About London and it took us ages to make because we kept falling out over which songs should and shouldn’t be included, for we have very different musical tastes, my brother and I. Anyhow, I believe you can buy the album in any well known record shop.”

"I’ll be sure it check it out! Is there anything else that may surprise us about you?”

“I doubt it! Being intelligent and sophisticated cats, we do dabble in various professions, for in our midst we have a Railway Cat, a spiritual leader, a midwife, a couple of thieves, a magician, a scientist, a doctor, nurses, teachers, and so on and so forth, whilst I myself have tried my hand at a multitude of professions, including a circus performer, a stand up comedian, a professional cat boxer, a junior chef (I only did that for a few weeks!), a spy (though I cannot go into anymore detail about that I’m afraid!) a restaurant pianist, an actor, singer and dancer. I have appeared on stage as part of a dance act for famous singers, in fact I still work as a backing singer every now and again and I am also part of a band called Resistance Is Futile. The money has to come from somewhere, although for some of those jobs that I mentioned, I was not actually paid for, rather, I was forced to do them as someone else’s slave! Still I value the experience that each new profession has given me, not least because I could have easily drawn the short straw and been scent to work down a mineshaft or forced to toil for hours in the hot sun on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like some other less fortunates!”

“A chef? What sort of things do you cook?”

“It was Tugger who helped me to get the job at the Wellington Arms. They stuck me on the grill, while Tugger worked as a sous chef, and I know I gripe about him all the time, but give him his due where it’s worth, he is a mean cook! As for me, I can grill stuff, but that’s about it. I really don’t see the point of fancy pants garnishes and foams, I mean Frigg that! I left after a couple of weeks because the heat was unbearable!” 

“You mentioned you were a comedian? No offense but you don’t come across as the type of person who tells jokes!”

“You are most accurate, for that is Mungojerry’s territory and I am quite happy to stay out of it thank you very much! In fact I am so bad, that the last time that I even attempted to tell a joke, I might as well have let off a stink bomb, such was the reaction, or should I say, the lack of it! No, I just used to stand there and rant about stuff which for some strange reason, people would find highly amusing! It transpires that while I may be lousy at telling a joke, I do like to have a good old fashioned moan, which is just as well, because it turns out the good humans of Britain also like nothing more than to grumble and complain, especially if it is at the expense of the Great British Establishment!”

“What sort of things do you moan about?”

“Whatever happens to have gotten on my tail that day, be it members of my dysfunctional family, Tugger, ignorant pollicles, Macavity obviously, Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer always turn up somewhere, Tugger, careless humans, impossible-to-satisfy queens, a certain vain son-of-a-gun who also goes by the name of Tugger, you name it and I have probably complained about it! Also, getting stuff off your chest is so therapeutic, that it is more like a therapy session than a job, and people buy you drinks afterwards!”

“You mentioned Tugger quite a bit?”

“That is because you could not make him up, for yes, he really is that goddamn annoying. He seems to know exactly which of my buttons not to push, and then goes and presses them all at once!”

“You don’t suffer fools gladly do you?”

“Too right I don’t! I am not a naturally patient individual you’ll be surprised to hear, especially considering that I am in charge of a great many kittens. My short temper was something that I really struggled with in the past and it got me into a lot of trouble too, so I had to work exceptionally hard in order to rein it in.   
It is strange, but I have often pondered why we lash out at the ones who are closest to us. Perhaps it is because we love them so much, that we sometimes forget that they have feelings? I am not sure, but I believe that the scourge of a lot of Toms is the fear of being proven wrong, so I have taken steps to address this problem, mainly by streamlining what I choose to care about while being able to disregard the little niggles that plague everyday life, making sure I judge less and listen more. Nowadays I am able to keep a firm grip on my emotions, and I have to, because when you are emotional, the wise bit of your brain stops talking to you, which is not good in life threatening situations, because that is when you are more likely to make mistakes. So it is imperative that I remain in a kind of wise mind, especially when I encounter situations where, if I were to make an error, then it could well be the last thing ever I do. It’s a sobering thought isn’t it? Personally, I think I have done remarkably well, seeing as I cannot count the number of times that I have longed to kick Tugger’s furry backside and have resisted the urge! However, certain other individuals who shall remain nameless still insist on testing my tether to its very limits, due to the fact that I simply do not have time for these time wasters, so therefore I have an unofficial zero tolerance policy on idiots, because I am of the opinion that ignorance is never an excuse to blow up someone else’s fuse, chiefly one as short as mine. Unofficial, because I end up having to deal with said idiots on an almost daily basis!” 

“I can’t imagine you getting angry, for you seem to be so calm and level headed! Nevertheless, I doubt anyone would be daft enough to find out what an angry Munkustrap looks like!”

“Oh you’d be surprised what certain cats can pull off! Although having said that, I am calmer than I used to be, mainly because I have been on a quest for inner tranquility and peace for many years now. It has taken a great deal of hard work and a lot of dedication, but I definitely feel calmer within myself, and this in turn has made me a better Protector, for while nobody is perfect, there is always room for improvement I always say!”

“It is quite normal you know, to fight with siblings, for I don’t get along with my swat of a little brother either! I definitely agree with you on the fact that little brothers are annoying! I notice that you are very humble in the way that you describe yourself, which I find incredulous, seeing as you are a pretty extraordinary individual, heroic even. What keeps you so grounded?"

"Well now, I am of the firm belief that arrogance is never smiled upon, plus a favourite motto of mine is, ‘work even when you don’t feel like working,’ so I try to keep my feet firmly on solid ground rather than filling my head with excuses or inflated compliments until before I know it it is buried in the clouds! Also, it is of my humble opinion that you cannot expect others to respect you if you yourself lack self respect and that self worth can only come from within, for if you try to ingest it from an external source, such as if you desire lots of money or worldly goods for instance, yes these sorts of things may give you an initial buzz of elation, but then they will only leave you feeling cold and empty in the long run, causing you to desire more, until before too long, you are living your life chasing one dream to the next. I like to think of self worth and self respect as seeds that we must grow and nurture inside of ourselves, giving them the right conditions so that they can grow and blossom, eventually pushing out such negative feelings of worthlessness and self deprecation. Those who are arrogant are simply empty shells, for while they may appear confident on the outside, inside they are brimming with an insecurity that needs constant feeding from external stimuli such as drugs, alcohol, sex or violence. I may not have known any life other than the one which I am living, but I not not desire any other, for I love the work that I do because it gives me great satisfaction seeing that my family is safe and happy. In fact, any cat who gets too big for their boots is quickly put in their place, myself included, and though I may be a high ranking male, I never forget that I came from humble beginnings, since, from the moment we are born we have to fight for pretty much everything, be it food, attention or rank. I was no leader to begin with. If anything I was pretty low down in the pecking order, therefore, I had no choice but to fight my way to the top. Having said that, I am all too aware that there are those who would kick my feet out from under me if they so much as got the chance and that I could lose it all in an instant. Mine is a stressful job, so much so that I often find that I cannot switch off, even when I would very much like to, but don’t get me wrong, it is not all doom and gloom! It can be a lot of fun sometimes as well! It definitely requires that element, because sadly, the life of the protectors can be inherently short, and the circumstances which surround our deaths tend to be pretty savage to say the least, mainly because part of our job description is to make ourselves the target of violence so that others may avoid it. I shall give you an example. When I was a kitten, Poseidon was the Jellicle Protector and also my half brother and mentor. When he met his untimely demise at the jaws of a savage tribe of feral pollicles who used to terrorize the Jellicles, but thankfully no longer due to human intervention, he could not have been much older than I am now, but I believe he died happy in the knowledge that his death saved the lives of his family, an honorable death, you might say. What more could a protector ask for? Personally, I have no intention of going out quietly, for I hope I get to the Heaviside still fighting, perhaps with an ear missing or something! Hell! I am already missing a few teeth and my back is so heavily scarred that it looks like a road map!   
The other thing that keeps me grounded is the knowledge that it is not all about me, that there are bigger things at play. I do what I do out of love, nothing more or less, not just for the tribe, but for something else that is bigger than the whole Universe and everything that resides within it. Everyday we take time to sit, maybe for hours, sometimes for just five minutes, in quiet contemplation of this being who created us all, who we may eventually go to when we die and who has ultimate control over everything that happens."

"Wow I never expected you to be quite the philosopher that you clearly are! As someone who struggles with an addiction to material things, namely fags, shoes and the odd glass of wine, you have definitely put some interesting ideas into my head that may well help me to live a more humble and sensible life! So thank you for that! However it does sound like you are under an awful lot of pressure, yet I can also see that you are incredibly pios!"

"Being humble and dedicated to a higher source helps me to keep my head above the water, when the insane amount of pressure that I am under sometimes feels like it may overwhelm me. There are so many things that can go wrong. An incident that springs to mind occurred during a previous Jellicle Ball in which my position as protector was severely tested to its limit. I might add that I had not been a protector for very long, so therefore, I was a little inexperienced, but regardless of my naivety, I was still doing my utmost best to protect my elderly father, when my evil brother stormed in and snatched him right out from under my nose! All of a sudden, I found myself to be completely out of my depth and I am sorry to say that I failed to gain control of the situation, so that shortly after, my brother returned and attempted to befall the same fate onto poor Demeter, and had it not been for a last ditch decision to challenge him on my part, then he more than likely would have taken her too! However, the triumph I felt at having foiled his despicable plans was short lived because I ended up taking a severe beating for my troubles, not to mention putting my eldest son in danger when he tried to help me! It was an utter shambles and complete balls up on my part, plus I would have felt completely and utterly defeated had it not been for my now mate Demeter, bless her heart, for she took great pity on me, which I did not feel like I deserved! In fact if she was here right now she would probably tell me off for being such a pessimist, before reminding sharply that even though I got my arse kicked, I did gain a mate out of it, so it wasn’t all bad! Still, my ego was bruised, and despite the love and support I received, I felt like I had let the whole tribe down, for they had been counting on me to ensure the safety of our Leader and without him, no one would be going to the Heaviside layer! Had my son Mistoffelees had not stepped in to save the day, then I do not know what would have happened to my father and it doesn't bare thinking about quite frankly! After the ball, I begged Old Deuteronomy to let me go, believing that I was not up to the job and that someone else would be better equipped to handle the responsibility and disappointment that I felt was crushing me. He on the other hand, was wise enough to see this as a moment to weakness on my part and I will never forget what he told me. In a way that only my father does, kindly, but sternly at the same time, and keeping my pride hovering off of the floor without flattening it, he said that on no uncertain terms was I to go anywhere, but I was to stick to my somewhat battered post and learn from my mistakes. He helped me to realise that the biggest mistake I had made was to focus all of my attention on trying to avoid making a mistake to begin with and the whole disastrous experience taught me a valuable lesson in that everybody trips up from time to time, but that is no reason to feel ashamed! If you fall flat on your face, say at the first hurdle you come to, then it is important to pick yourself back up again and carry on towards the next one, and it doesn’t matter how many times you stumble or are knocked down, you must scrape yourself up off the ground and crawl to the next one if you have to!  
Either way, I am so grateful for the life that I live and I try not to take anything for granted, even though have times when all I want to do is hide in a box somewhere and never come out, especially on days when I feel like the job is too difficult, or I have messed up in some way, for nobody wants to be the one who gets it wrong, least of all me! I don't do it all on my own, mind you, for my father is very supportive and I can always go to him if I need advice and I also have a few right hand toms who help me out from time to time."

"Does your brother help you out?"

He snorts. "Who Tugger? Don’t make me laugh! You'd think he would, wouldn't you? But alas no, Tugger pretty much does whatever Tugger wants to do and, apart from our father, the only authority that he answers to is himself, for whilst I am bound by duty, he, on the other hand, is very much a free spirit. In the past, I think he used to feel somewhat jealous of me, and I definitely felt envious of him, because the cat doesn’t seem to have a care in the world, whereas I sometimes feel like I have had the weight of the world dumped on my shoulders, so it was all too easy for me to feel resentment towards him whenever he undermined me or stepped out of line. However, as we have gotten older I think we have both realised that it doesn't matter what side of the fence we are standing on, for there are bound to be a few prickles! What I mean is, just because someone's life looks better than yours, it may not be in reality. Our lives are all about sacrifice and his is no exception, for while I am a proud father to a great many kittens, he has yet to father a single one, although if you were to watch his antics you would be led to believe otherwise!"

"You say you are not really in charge, so who is in charge?"

"The queens are, most definitely in charge! You fail to answer to them at your peril! It is they who ultimately choose the leader, for without their backing you are nothing. They make the decisions, and I just do what I'm told!"

"So yours is very much a matriarchal and sort of democratic society?"

"That is correct, yes."

"The tribe is your family, are you all related?"

"We are all connected in some way, yes. For you must understand that, if cats are not related then we do not get along with one another at all and this is because we evolved over millions of years to be solitary creatures, so that when we all come together it can be a little tense at times, hence, it is my job to ease any tensions or break up any fights if need be!"  
Old Deuteronomy is my father, but despite me being just one of his many progeny, I have been informed that my brothers and I take after our mother Grizabella with regards to our appearance, although I never had a lot of contact with her, because she left when I was still a kitten. Jennyanydots and her sister Jellylorum brought me and my brothers up like we were their own kittens and a more extraordinary and generous couple of queens you are ever likely to meet. Now, call me biased, but I am willing to proclaim that Jennyanydots and Jellylorum are two of the World’s greatest mothers and I feel so privileged that I had them both as mother figures. They also happen to be my mates!"

"It must have been hard...wait! Did you just say, your mates?”

“Yes, why?”

“Errr...nothing! Moving on! So, growing up without your mother? Did that affect you at all?"

"I barely remember her to be honest. I think if her absence affected us at all, it would have affected my brothers more than me, but whether or not her premature absence was the factor that caused Macavity’s sadistic tendencies or Rum Tum Tugger’s drinking, I am afraid I cannot say. Personally, I do not miss what I never had. I suppose the tragic thing about the whole situation was the slander which the adults used to poison our minds with, filling up our heads with stories about her infamous liaisons and reasons why we should shun her, so that by the time she appeared looking somewhat worse for wear, we were too ashamed even to be associated with her. The exact details about her sordid deeds and actions were never made clear to me, so I only knew what I had heard from eavesdropping on the elders, and although I did my best as Protector to prevent her from being attacked, for there was a great deal of hostility directed towards her, I am not proud to confess that when she reached out to me, I turned my back on her and walked away in disgust. But you must understand that I did it because I was angry. I was hurting inside at how she could walk out of our lives and leave us for dead, like our lives didn’t mean anything, and then have the audacity to expect an open armed welcome when she eventually did decide to show her haggard face again. Frankly, I wanted nothing to do with her, whatsoever. The whole experience was a huge lesson for me, because it taught me the power of forgiveness and, luckily for me, her abandoning my siblings and myself did very little to affect us, mainly because we had the most amazing kittenhood. Life was seemingly non stop, carefree fun, and, for the first few months of my life, at least, I can’t remember ever feeling unhappy or disadvantaged in any way, for we were so well looked after that our lives did not seem to be short of love. It was when I reached adolescence, at around four months old, that I started to experience problems."

“What sort of problems?”

“Oh, you know, the usual teenage angst and self loathing. This led to drugs, alcohol, all kinds of bad things.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Well they started out innocent enough, I mean, many cats smoke catnip, for instance, but I found harder ones as time went on.”

“Why, what made you want to take drugs?”

“I don't think anyone wants to take drugs. I guess I was unhappy, and the drugs made me happy, at first. But then, I had to take take more and more in order to feel normal! I quickly descended into a life of debauchery and crime, where all I cared about was where my next fix was coming from, and I didn't care how, or who I hurt, to get it. To put it bluntly, I was a total cunt! I would have ended up just like Macavity, if it were not for a few of life's interventions!”

“What kind of interventions?”

“Two things actually. One incident was so harrowing, that I cannot talk about it, I'm afraid. The other was an intervention from The Lady Herself.” He points to the sky.

“You mean you found God?”

“Well technically, God (aka, The Everlasting Cat or EC as she's affectionately known) found me. I was at rock bottom. I was ill, had really run out of reasons to carry on living, when she appeared to me in a strange, sort of dream and basically told me to change my ways. Which I did, because, if EC tells you to do something, er, you blooming well do it! So yeah, I swapped narcotics, for yoga! I mean, I hardly ever even drink now and decided to make up for all the bad things I did by dedicating my life to The Jellicles and Her upstairs of course!”

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

"That I know of? Well, I have countless half siblings, but from the same litter, erm...I think four? My youngest brother was apparently eaten by a rat before our eyes had even opened, but I don't really remember, and my sister. She died shortly afterwards, though I don't know in what circumstances. After that it was just me and my brother Tugger, plus Macavity who was part of a previous litter. It's quite unusual anyway, for a cat to retain contact with his siblings, because humans usually give kittens away, so they tend to be scattered far and wide.”

My mouth has dropped open. "Oh Gosh! That is really sad!"

He shrugs his shoulders. "It was one of those things. If you want to succeed as a Jellicle Cat, you have to be tough or you will die, particularly if you happen to be a stray cat who lacks the luxury of a safe human home. There are so many odds that are stacked against us, that half of all stray kittens don't make it passed their first year and I will be the first to admit that losing a kitten is one of the saddest things that can happen, but I try not to let that sadness cloud my judgement too much, for life is not guaranteed, our lives are perilously short and the only thing we can be certain about is that we will all die, but having said that, we do not waste our time dwelling too much on the subject. In fact, my father always says that, ‘Tragedy is inevitable, but we have control over how much suffering that tragedy causes us,’ and he should know, because he has seen an awful lot of cats come and go over the years, many of them being his own sons and daughters.  
Nonetheless, I have noticed something most perplexing about you humans. You are always so afraid of death! It is like there is this enormous elephant in the room that you will not acknowledge even when he is practically sitting on you, and I believe that that is a mistake on your part, for when your loved ones die it seems to come as a complete shock, causing waves of suffering, and it need not be that way.  
We Jellicles are not afraid of death, because we see it as the next chapter in our story. We take as much enjoyment out of life as we can, and that is where the Jellicle Ball comes into its own, becoming more spectacular year on year.” 

"So can you tell who is related to you and who isn't? I heard you cats can do that?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He taps his black nose with his paw. "Sense of smell. It is difficult for me to accurately describe it to you because I know that you humans do not really have one!" He smirks at this! "Scent governs everything, due to it being our main form of communication. For example, if I happen to meet a stranger, then I can tell whether they are related to me or not and how closely, because we all possess a unique scent which one never forgets, even if we have not seen each other for a number of years. It helps me to decide whether I greet that individual or whether I have the unenviable task of seeing them off!"

"What, so you can smell your own DNA or something?"

"I do not know what DNA is. Like I said, it is hard for me to define."

"Oh. Well you are right though, as compared to you, I pretty much can't smell a thing! So what is your nose telling you about me, just out of interest?"

"Ah, well, please don't take this the wrong way, but you humans are so odorous it is any wonder you can smell at all? I am guessing that you did not wash this morning or yesterday, and I can tell because most humans smell strongly of soap after they wash and this smell becomes progressively fainter with each passing day. You have merely put on some strong perfume to try to cover it up, plus I think I can detect two different perfumes, which I am afraid is not doing such a grand job of covering up your natural smell, if that is what you hoped to achieve. I can smell...other humans, you ate a burger for your dinner or at least some sort of greasy processed meat product, you smoked a cigarette roughly an hour ago, oh, and do you own a pekingese? Or a shih tzu perhaps?"

"Oh God Munkustrap! I am sorry! Do I really smell that bad? Is that why your tail is flicking?"

He shrugs again. "I never used the word bad. You asked and I am afraid that my nose does not lie, therefore, neither will I."

"I'm rather embarrassed to admit it, but you are spot on! I own a pekingese called Peaky! Moving on swiftly! Let’s talk a bit more about Macavity."

"Do I have to?” He glances nervously over his shoulder then sighs and rolls his eyes. “What do you want to know?"

"Well we know that his name is Macavity and that the relationship between you two isn’t exactly amicable?"

"That is a bit of an understatement! Honestly, I don't know what his problem is, and believe me, I have tried to figure it out! I have asked him about his reasons for hating me until I am blue in the face, but all I can glean from his responses is the fact that he wants me nothing short of dead, so that he can take this Junkyard and the power that it wields all for himself. He was almost our protector once upon a time, but for whatever reason, the queens would not accept him, so he attempted to use force in order to stamp his authority upon us, much as a dictator would. Normally, if a Tom is not accepted by the queens, he has to take it like a grown-up and quietly step aside, however Macavity did not do that. Instead he chose to act like a kitten who had had his fireworks confiscated, so that, when it was declared that I should be protector instead, it was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. Despite the fact that every single queen chose to stand with me, there was no way that he was ever going to accept his little brother as his superior, not even if Hell were to freeze over. I do not know why he did not kill me there and then, for me being so young, I would have thought that he would have had the perfect opportunity, but instead he decided that it would be better to knock me out, stuff me inside a crate and have me packed off somewhere. So I received the shock of my life when I woke up on a hospital frigate, the SS Kalyan, in the middle of the sea (which I had never seen before by the way!) with no idea of how I had gotten to be there. After a sickening twelve day voyage, the ship docked in Archangel and I ended up becoming stranded there for the entire Russian winter, whilst having to dodge great white bears and men wielding guns. In order to pass the time I joined the circus and had a few other odd jobs, before I was able to make my escape back to Old Blighty. In the end, myself and another group of exiled cats were able to chase Macavity out of the yard and I will never forget the look on his face when he saw me!  
He still insists on coming back and wreaking havoc every so often, because I think he knows deep down that he will never be leader. He may be 'The Napoleon of Crime', but really all that makes him is the World's biggest loser and he knows it. But that does not mean that I am the winner in all of this, for I am simply a porn in this battle for supremacy. He could kill me, and he would still be a loser. Blinded by his own thirst for vengeance and hate, he takes great pleasure in inducing terror in others, and the more suffering he causes then the more power he thinks he has, for power is what ultimately drives him to do what he does, and he is insatiable for it. I have to respect his determination, but sometimes I wish he would give me a break, for having to constantly try to keep myself one step ahead of him is both physically and mentally draining, as you never know where or when he may show up. The coward has even sent surprise assassins to do his dirty for him can you believe? Plus I suspect that an attack could be imminent, because he hasn't been seen around these parts for well over a year, since our last encounter was a particularly ruthless one, whereupon he came nauseatingly close to killing me. Superior magic, size, strength, speed, stamina, cunning, you name it he had it going for him that night, unfortunately for me.”

“But he must have an Achilles Heel surely? I thought everybody had one of those!”

“Blindness. And I don’t mean physical blindness, but a mental blindness stemming from feelings of unchecked hatred and an explosive rage, which I use to my advantage as often as I can, although unfortunately, it failed me last time! He believes that what he is doing is the intelligent thing to do, regardless of whether it is right or not, as he would think nothing of killing his own brother simply because he happened to get in the way of his best laid plans! In actual fact I believe that he thinks that his intelligence is far superior to anyone else’s and he is welcome to carry on thinking that as far as I am concerned, because I know that if he really had brains, then he would have taken over the World by now rather than wasting his time trying unsuccessfully to annihilate a group of innocent cats.   
I must stress that, armed with teeth and claws we may be, but for the most part we are peaceful creatures, for most of us never want to voluntarily get into a fight, as fights are dangerous, if nothing short of deadly. If you come away from a fight with a few nasty scratches then you can count yourself lucky, because these things can do some serious damage!" He briefly unsheathes a set of five, razor sharp, black claws which glint in the dim glow cast by a nearby streetlight, before quickly resheathing them again. "I have very little to protect myself other than my fur. Want to feel by the way? It's ok, I don't bite you know, but I do love to be stroked, just here."

I am not so sure, since I caught a glimpse of his teeth earlier and they looked pretty ferocious to me, while those claws look as though they could easily take the flesh off of my arm, if he were to put his mind to it! Nevertheless, I fear that to refuse would be to cause great offense to the creature who has welcomed me into his home, and so, somewhat tentatively, I reach over, stretch out my hand and stroke the fur on his shoulder, which is much longer and thicker than the fur on the rest of his body. I can't believe what I am doing, but thankfully, he shows no indication that he wishes to bite my hand off, so that is some consolation! In complete contrast to my initial apprehension, his fur is so soft that it feels like silk velvet against my skin and as I disturb the outer silver hairs, a downy white underlayer is revealed underneath, all the while I am resisting a very strong urge to bury my face in it! Meanwhile, he is doing a very good impression of a living radiator and then, to my utter astonishment, he even shuts his eyes slightly and begins to purr. I can even feel the vibration of it beneath my fingertips, reminding me of one of those vibrating cat toys! Rather peculiarly, the tension and nerves that I was feeling before quickly melt away and I begin to feel much more at ease around this strange creature. He too appears to be much more relaxed, but I can’t say I blame him for feeling uneasy, because let’s face it, he doesn't know me, and yet here I am asking him all of these personal questions! Incidentally, the act of stroking him as revealed that, not only is he nowhere near as scary as I first imagined him to be, but he is actually a surprisingly affectionate gentle giant.

"Wow! I've got total fur envy going on now, it's so gorgeous that I think that I could do this all day! With all that you've been through, Munkustrap, you must be the bravest cat ever, facing such an adversary, for that Macavity sounds like a real nasty piece of work! What scares you the most?"

"Be my guest! It can get a little uncomfortable in hot weather and in actual fact, I used to be quite self conscious about my stripes, mainly because other cats would poke fun at them, but they wouldn't dare now of course!"

"Well I think your stripes are beautiful! What breed of cat are you by the way? Do you know?”

"Thank you. But please tell me first, what breed of human are you?” 

“Uh...sorry...I didn’t mean...well, we human’s set ourselves apart by race, not breed. But we’re all the same really, since race is governed by our culture and our environment more than anything. I’m sorry did I offend you?”

“No not at all, I was merely curious! As for my breed, I believe that I am a Bengal Maine Coon cross. My father is a Maine Coon, whilst my mother was, in her prime, a beautiful charcoal Bengal Queen who was coveted by a great many suitors. Like I mentioned before, I have her to thank for my outward appearance, however what sort of cat I am or am not is irrelevant to me, for we are all but cats at the end of the day!  
To answer your other question, I would say that, just because someone is 'brave', doesn't mean that they don't get scared. I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel a cold sense of dread whenever I catch a whiff of Macavity and that my heart is not gripped by terror whenever he appears. Mainly because the thought in the back of my mind is whether or not our encounter will be my last. In fact, our last encounter almost was, but the thing that scares me the most is letting my tribe down, of being seen as weak and unworthy of my place, for should I ever allow him to defeat me, then I know the consequences for my family would be dire. So yes, I do get scared, but I am more scared of failing to face up to my fears, for I would rather face a wall of snapping pollicles than have my own feelings get the better of me. Does that make sense?"

"So it must have been a really difficult time for you, banished from your own tribe, with no family and seemingly no way of getting it back?"

"Oh it was! Already a father, my first mate Jennyanydots had just given birth to my two sons: Alonzo and Archimedes and my daughter Ariadne, but I wasn't really much more than a youngster myself, she being quite a bit older than me! So therefore, I was still pretty vulnerable, because I had never really been on my own before. Being surrounded by my loving tribe of family and friends was the only world that I knew of and all of a sudden it was gone. I had no way of keeping my family safe, no way of seeing my son grow up and no way of protecting my loved ones! So while I was forced to be so far away from them, I felt completely defeated, like I was abandoning my own family and I wondered if I would ever be allowed back.  
On returning to the UK, little did I know that my troubles would be far from over. As the ship had docked in Leith, I decided to make a perilous trek across Scotland, all the way to Glasgow, in order to try to find my cousin Skimbleshanks. Shortly after I got there I was captured by a gang of vicious street cats who locked me up and basically forced me and some other poor souls to be their slaves. We endured beatings and starvation and I almost gave up any hope of ever seeing my beloved family again, when a fellow captive, risked his life to help me escape. After being pursued half way across Glasgow, I managed to find my cousin who helped me to get back to London, but I was so sick that he had no choice but to hand me over to his humans.   
Luckily I was taken in by another human family shortly after, and as a consequence of me being the fatuous young Tom that I was back then, I fell head over heels for a ravishing young queen named Bombalurina, who was being forced to ‘work’ for that swine also known as Macavity. Filled with foolish bravado, I rescued her from his evil clutches, hoping that my daring display would win her over and I truly believed that I would be able to keep her safe, but what was to come next came as a horrendous shock." He pauses, looking off into the distance as if trying to recall a long suppressed memory.

"What happened?"

"She hadn't long given birth to kittens, my son Mistoffelees and a daughter, Victoria and I had left her for a couple of hours to attend a secret meeting with a group of jellicles, but when I returned to the house that she had been hiding in, I discovered a towering inferno surrounded by firefighters who were trying desperately to put it out. As you can probably imagine, my blood literally froze in my veins and out of sheer blind panic, I scaled the side of the burning building, the smoke hitting my eyes and almost blinding me. The intense heat coming out at me from the fire felt like a wall of radiation melting my face, but I didn’t consider my own safety to be of any significance when I had to get my family out. Finally, I made it to the top floor window, which, by the grace of Everlasting Cat, was open, so I was able to clamber inside, but the smoke was so thick that I immediately started coughing uncontrollably and my lungs felt like they were burning on the inside. Then, through the thick smoke, I heard my kitten's crying, so that spurred me onwards, feeling my way with my whiskers, because I couldn't see a thing! I was so relieved when I found them huddled in a box, right where Bombalurina had hidden them, but there was no sign of her. I had no time to search because the building had started to collapse around me, so I grabbed my kits and ran for it! All I could think about was making it back to the window, but it became harder to move with every step that I took, for my limbs felt like dead weights. The few steps it took me to get to that window were the longest of my life, but somehow I managed to escape what had once been a house and was now an enormous oven, just as there was an almighty ‘BANG!’ The whole place went up around me and had I had stayed in that room for a moment longer then it would have been curtains for all of us. As it was, the force of the explosion threw me backwards, causing me to plummet, I am guessing about sixteen feet to what I was convinced would be certain death, but by some categorical miracle, I landed with a rather undignified ‘thwump!’ on the fireman's' lifenet. It turned out that one of them was a bit of an animal lover and had clocked me climbing up the building, so that was a relief I can tell you! The kind fireman, whose name escapes me now, helped me to revive my kittens and made sure we were all ok, and thankfully no one was seriously injured, the only casualties being my badly singed whiskers and my poor lungs! I was coughing like an absolute trooper, but I was also beside myself with grief because I had no idea whether or my beloved Bomba had made it out alive. At that point I assumed that she was dead."

"Munkustrap you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. I can see it is painful for you!"

He looks down at his paws. "No it's ok, I do not mind talking about it so much these days, though it took awhile for me to get over the initial trauma. The day after this incident, I walked up to the smouldering remains of the building, to see if I could look for any clues, and that is when I spotted four claw marks scratched into the blackened front door, in the shape of an ‘M’." Anger flashes in his eyes and I think I can see the sharp points of his teeth appear on his bottom lip.  
"I was left in no doubt as to who the culprit was, for I instantly recognised it as the logo that my brother often leaves at many of his crime scenes. I hate to admit it, but I felt the grey mist of rage descend on my heart and I could not let it go, as I felt a need for revenge so powerfully, that it blighted everything else in my mind, which I admit, I am not proud of now. But at the time, I felt like I had allowed Macavity get away with enough hateful deeds without him facing a single consequence for his actions and now I wasn’t prepared to simply roll over and take it, plus I had a moral duty to punish Macavity for my mate’s death and my now motherless kittens who would soon die unless I figured out a way to feed them. I decided that the time had come to take back my tribe, at least, what was left of it, for with Old Deuteronomy and my son in hiding there really was no Jellicle Tribe and certainly no Jellicle ball.  
Having managed to trace Jennyanydots and Jellylorum to a basement flat below the Wellington Arms, where I learned the awful news that Macavity had slaughtered a great many Jellicles, including the tribe’s Elder Queens, my daughter Ariadne and son Archimedes. Jennyanydots, Jellylorum and Alonzo had barely managed to escape with their lives.   
They very kindly took my kittens in and brought them up like they were their own, allowing me time to compile a sort of army if you like, with some of the other Toms who had been given the boot. Together we attacked Macavity as one, which was no mean feat, seeing as getting cats to corporate is like trying to herd butterflies! After weeks in the planning, we took ‘The Hidden Paw’ completely by surprise, descending on the Scrap Yard like a tidal surge of cats whereupon there ensued a great battle! Many cats perished, but eventually, we were victorious and the Jellicle tribe was once again restored. Ah! The joys of being young and blissfully arrogant. I figured that I would have nothing to lose apart from my own life, so I took a dangerous gamble in attacking Macavity head on and it paid off, but unfortunately, what I could not have foreseen at that time, was the price that I would be forced to pay. A rod with my name on it hangs over me, due to the fact that I was unable to kill Macavity as I had intended and I have subsequently failed to do so ever since. Either way, it is inevitable that one of us will die at some point, because this town just isn’t big enough for the two of us."

"Did you find Bombalurina though?"

"I most certainly did! I will never forget her tears of joy when she realised her kittens were alive and well, for she very rarely cries does Bomba! Unfortunately, the reunion was bittersweet, because, as a punishment for running away from him, Macavity did some vile things to her sister Demeter, getting her pregnant, and Bomb partly blamed me for that.  
In any case, and it may seem ludicrous, but despite his narcissistic tendencies and heinous crimes, I bear no ill feeling towards my brother. You may well ask how I am able to forgive such a monster, and I admit, he doesn’t exactly make it easy, but over the years I have trained myself to practice love and forgiveness rather than anger and hate, instead choosing to reserve such negative feelings for times when they are unavoidably required. I will admit that I am curious as to what goes on inside my brother’s head, I want to be able to understand how we came to be close friends one moment and deadly enemies the next. Because he hasn’t always been bad, I believe there is still a sliver of good in him somewhere, I just have to figure out how to unlock it. Darkness resides within us all, it drives us to desire what we cannot obtain, and causes us to feel negative emotions such as greed or envy. Furthermore, I also believe that we all have the ultimate decider on how we choose to deal with those demons, after all, the darkness can only get to you if you choose to let it in. Macavity ended up allowing the darkness to take over his mind until it consumed him, whereas I am driven by one thing and that is love. It may seem rather quaint, but love lies at the heart of everything I am and everything that I do and hopefully that should be enough to protect my own mind from that same weakness which seems to run in my family!

"Better the devil you know eh?"

"Quite. It helps to know your enemy so that you can predict their next move. We even have a bunch of his former cronies working for us as spies. Well they were ours to start with actually, before he stole them from us and brainwashed them! We put them on a rehabilitation program, and it's been quite successful for most, though sadly we have to send those who can't be helped to the cats home, because they are too dangerous to stay within the tribe.”

"Munkustrap, you are a big cat! I mean, I just felt your biceps, and they are solid, there's no other way to describe them. Surely Macavity is no match for you?"

He splutters. "Are you kidding? Have you seen the size of him? No? Of course you haven’t and hopefully you never will, for he is the stuff of nightmares. When you look at the monster that he has become, it is all too easy to forget that he wasn’t always a monster! In fact, once upon a time, he was not only my best friend, but a loving and responsible older brother to this pain in the backside!” He points towards himself. “I remember one time, and I must have been very young for it happened not long after Poseidon died and Mac found me sitting all by myself, bawling my eyes out in the pouring rain. He did his best to coax me to move out of the wet and into somewhere warm and dry, but being the stubborn git that I am, I refused to budge. So he picked me up, carried me back to his den, which is the one we are sitting in right now, and dried me off. Unfortunately I became gravely ill shortly afterwards. I was always getting sick back then, in fact I only had to step out into a rain shower and I would get the sneezes, but that time I became so ill that they didn’t think that I would pull through. My sister had died already of some illness, but Mac stayed with me the entire time. Truth be told, I loved and respected him so much, that that wild horses couldn’t have torn us apart. So ok, he was a little rebellious, but that to me just made him exciting to be around, and a great laugh too! However, he did have this cruel streak, which didn’t show itself very often, but when it did, he became very frightening and as we grew older, this cruel streak began to show itself more and more. He was very careful to hide it from the elders, managing to cunningly wrap it up in a film of innocence and diligent behaviour so that he had everybody fooled by his wit and charm, including me. I didn’t even smell a rat when he snuck Tugger and I out on burgling raids, where I would have to smash a window or pick a lock, while he would go in and steal the family silver in order to fuel his gambling addiction. Rum Tum Tugger would have to act as a lookout, so consequently, we almost got caught several times, seeing as Tugger was and still is the worst look out anyone could ever ask for. But we didn’t think anything of it, because as far as we were concerned, we were having an adventure with our big brother! I don’t know what made him change so dramatically, but it was like one day we were the best of friends, and the next we were mortal enemies, it was as if he had been possessed by some unspeakable evil, but he ceased to be the brother that I thought I knew. I do not recognise the cat that he has become as any relation of mine, as he continues to terrorize the residents of London. I am powerless to stop him, but that doesn't stop me from trying. Twice my size he may be, and his dagger- like claws may put me at a grim disadvantage, but I fight because he has everything to gain from everything that I have to lose. If nothing else, I have a raw determined to carry on for as long as I am accepted, despite the odds stacked against me, to get back up again no matter how many times I am knocked down.  
The only thing that saved me after our last battle was an amazing cat called Doctor Jazzie, who pretty much put me back together again!   
I feel that I must also mention my eldest son Alonzo. He is one of the fastest cats in the Tribe, an absolutely brilliant young fighter, plus he has saved my bacon more times than I care to remember. He is also our official number three, meaning that, should anything happen to me, he would take on the role of temporary Protector until the trials begin. I think he has potential."

"Losing your kids like that, and a brother and sister, must have been devastating! Do you feel that this experience has scarred you at all?"

"I would be lying if I said it hadn't, for there are times when my friends might accuse me of being overbearing, overprotective, paranoid or even a little grumpy at times, and I might have a few trust issues as well! When I was younger I was quite a sullen young kitten, but over the years I have learnt to accept that bad things happen and I have to deal with them accordingly, plus I am not about to let that coward bring me down to his level! I use my experience to be the best version of myself that I can possibly be, which means dedicating my life to the Jellicle Tribe."

"So does the tribe accept newcomers?"

"Well, any cat who wishes to become a Jellicle cat can become one for we are very open to newcomers, but they must first pass a series of exams, for we are not born as fully fledged Jellicles, but must earn our place. Adolescents undertake a singing exam as well as a dancing exam if they wish to make the Ball and if they pass then they are awarded their names at a special ceremony, but if they fail, then they must wait a year before they can retake the exam. When we are given our names then it means we have finally made it! Our names are unique you know."

"Are you known by any other name? Just Munkustrap?"

"Only the names that humans have given me over the years, my pen name and stage names of course, plus my third name which I must never reveal to anyone. I also go by a couple of other names, but I can’t reveal those either. My current human John Pilkington, who is a detective for Scotland Yard, has given me the name of Silver. Rather imaginative, don't you think? I've been called worse things!" He rolls his eyes!

“I believe you are going to take us on a guided tour of your Scrapyard is that correct? But before we make a move, would you sing something for us?”

“Yes of course! Pass me my guitar please Dave? Thank you.” He points to a small guitar that has been placed neatly upon a shelf next to Dave’s head, which Dave picks up and reaches over to the Tabby who takes it and, placing the strap over his head, begins to tune it, picking at the strings using his claws. As he does this he asks, “What would you like me to sing?”

“Anything you like!”

“Ok then, I think I shall sing this one. It is called Streets Of London and I believe it was written by a man called Ralph McTell? Please feel welcome to join in if you think that you know it. It’s on the album by the way!” He begins to strum and I listen with tears streaming down my face as he unselfconsciously performs a beautifully heartwarming rendition of one of my favourite songs! I am such a soppy cow, but I also can’t sing to save my life, so I don’t dare to join in and I even shoot a glare over at Dave when it looks as though he is thinking about it! He is a worse singer than I am!

“Have you seen the old man in the closed down market  
Kicking up the papers with his worn out shoes?  
In his eyes you see no pride, hand held loosely by his side  
Yesterday's papers telling yesterday's news

So how can you tell me you're lonely  
And say for you that the sun doesn't shine?  
Oh, let me take you by the hand  
And lead you through the streets of London  
I'll show you something  
To make you change your mind!

Have you seen the old girl who walks the streets of London  
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?  
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking  
Carrying her home in two carrier bags

So how can you tell me you're lonely  
And say for you that the sun doesn't shine?  
Oh, let me take you by the hand  
And lead you through the streets of London  
I'll show you something  
To make you change your mind!

In the all night caf' at a quarter past eleven  
Same old man is sitting there on his own  
Looking at the world over the rim of his teacup  
Each tea last an hour, and he wanders home alone

So how can you tell me you're lonely  
And say for you that the sun doesn't shine?  
Oh, let me take you by the hand  
And lead you through the streets of London  
I'll show you something  
To make you change your mind!

Have you seen the old man outside the seaman's mission  
Memory fading with the metal ribbons that he wears?  
In our winter city the rain cries a little pity  
For one more forgotten hero and a world that doesn't care

Oh, how can you tell me you're lonely  
And say for you that the sun doesn't shine?  
Oh, let me take you by the hand  
And lead you through the streets of London  
I'll show you something  
To make you change your mind.

Oh sorry! Was that rubbish? I should have warmed up first really.”

He has noticed that Dave and I are in floods of tears and is looking adorably terrified, perhaps wondering what on Earth he has done to upset us! This then turns to a look of bemusement as I burst out laughing because the look on his face is an absolute picture! As Dave and I show our appreciation by clapping our hands (very quietly, so as not to deafen the poor guy!) and I manage to blurt out,   
“Rubbish? What are you on about? That made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, it was so perfect! Is there anything you are not amazing at, apart from telling jokes?” He just laughs.

Having regained our composure, Munkustrap is now taking my photographer and I on a tour around the Junkyard, having assisted us in an extremely hair raising descent down that rickety rope ladder! I am now having to run slightly in order to keep up with him, although it is difficult because I keep tripping over things in the dark! Munkustrap, on the other hand doesn't appear in the slightest bit bothered by the near pitch black surroundings. In fact, I can barely see him, because his stripes break up his outline so effectively that he seems to mould into his surroundings. Suddenly he freezes and I walk straight into the back of him! "Sorry!"

"Sshhh!" The now fully dilated pupils light up, turning from green to white to orange as we are caught in the beam of a car's headlights, the last of the workers leaving the scrapyard to go home for their dinner I suspect. He waits for a moment, one ear swiveling in the direction of the car's engine as it slowly dies away and then motions for me to follow him.

"Watch your step, there is glass just there. And would you mind treading a little more quietly please?"

"Ok, sorry!" I am on my tiptoes! "So can you take us through your average daily routine?"

"Er...Let me see...I wake up, usually at the foot of my human's bed just as the sun begins to set and my human gets in from work. Then I gently remind him that I am famished, have a bite to eat, let him stroke me for a bit and maybe help him with some of his cases, because sometimes he is just sitting there scratching his head and I am like, isn't it obvious who the culprit is? So anyway, after he has gone to bed, I make my way outside and once I am there, I have a bit of a sniff, check who's about, do a spot of scent marking, have a wash, that kind of thing. Next I patrol my territory, which luckily for me, borders with Macavity’s! Eventually, after travelling across town, I arrive at this place, which serves as a second home for me. However we can only come through the entrance at night, because during the day it is a fully working scrap yard and is far too dangerous for us to be hanging around. Once I am here, I might do a bit of stretching, and maybe some conditioning or training, but after I have done all my various jobs I usually go back and sleep for ten hours, then start the whole routine again. That would be an ideal day for me! For the most part my life is rather boring I'm afraid, but then that's how I like it, for if I had it my way, I would lie in the Sun all day long like my father does. Such is life!"

"Do the owners of the scrapyard mind you using it?"

"As long as we keep the rats out, they say it's ok. We've struck up a kind of understanding with them."

"Now, this is a bit personal, but you do anything to help keep yourself in shape or have you always been like Iron Man?"

"Who the Hell is Iron Man?"

"A fictional character who possesses superpowers. A really really strong man basically."

"I see."

Without warning he leaps straight up onto a wall of scrap metal car parts, gripping the top with his claws and pulling himself up the rest of the way. “How does he do that?” I wonder, for the wall is a good eight feet high! I am guessing he jumped down the other side, because I then hear a muffled 'thud!' a few moments later. The next thing I hear is what sounds like planks of wood being moved, before a black rubber screen is pulled back in front of me and Munkustrap's whiskery face pokes through a crude doorway no higher than my knees. He motions for me to proceed.

"Come! I had to check it was clear. I am afraid you will have to use the kitten's door, so mind you don't bump your head. In the meantime, welcome to our gym. No one is born strong, so my friends and I must come here almost every day and oh! Looks like someone is here already!"

After crawling through the tiny entrance on my hands and knees, he leads me through to a small clearing, where there are bits of scrap metal assembled around a tarmac floor. On closer inspection I can see boxes, stacks made out of tyres, a large wooden climbing frame, monkey bars, high vault bars, low bars, parallel bars, balance beams, ropes, tight ropes, a trapeze, a high wire, and a metal pole, all arranged into a kind of obstacle course. In the distance I spot a large cracked mirror with a bar running along its length where a group of young cats appear to be having dance lessons with an elegant Brown Burmese, while strewn about the place are large rubber balls, juggling balls and even a unicycle!   
"Do you like it? This is where we learn our craft," Munkustrap explains.  
There are a few cats already using the apparatus. Two of them stop what they're doing and walk over to us. They greet Munkustrap using rough hugs and head bumping, then they begin whispering to one another, shooting worried glances at me. Munkustrap appears to reassure them and they come over to me. Instinctively I hold out my hand, letting them sniff my knuckles and rub their heads against them.  
"Hello Munkustrap's friends, what are your names?" I ask. It is Munkustrap who does the introductions.  
"This is the cat I was telling you about, my eldest son Alonzo." Munkustrap indicates yet another stunning cat. He is much smaller than Munkustrap, slighter of build and is probably not much more than a teenager. His piebald fur is mainly white with paint splodges of black and he stares at me with one light blue eye and one green eye.  
"It's a pleasure to meet you Alonzo,” I say, “Munkustrap has been telling me all about you. It's all good, don't look so worried!"  
"Oh and this is Plato,” Munkustrap continues, “one of my other right-hand toms. Tumblebrutus ought to be here too, I wonder where he is?" He introduces me to a white cat with red and black markings, who is taller than Alonzo but not quite as tall as Munkustrap. He gives me a shy nod and then I look around at the space before me.  
"Wow this is really impressive, did you build it?" I ask.  
"We have all helped to build it over many years,” replies Munkustrap, “ and we are constantly adding to it. Come, I shall show you around."  
"Would you give us a little demonstration maybe?" I ask cheekily. I really wanted to see this cat in action now!  
"Oh I don't know about that..." he hesitates.  
"Oh go on dad!" Alonzo pipes up.  
"Yeah come on Grandad,” Plato is now in on it, “show us what you're made of! Or are you scared you'll pull something?" Plato is smirking and Munkustrap gives him a look that could freeze mercury, but then he sighs in defeat.  
"Oh all right, if it'll shut you up!" he says unenthusiastically. Grumbling to himself, something about being "too old for this," he walks up to the parallel bars and takes a couple of deep breaths, before grasping them. I watch in utter amazement as he presses into his paws and raises his feet into the air. Alonzo and Plato have definitely shut up at this point! In the silence you can hear a pin drop just as that I realise that I have forgotten to breathe! With his gaze locked straight ahead in concentration, Munkustrap allows his back to curve as he lowers his legs back so that his toes make contact with his forehead, before extending one leg upwards until he is in a tilted split while still balancing on his paws. With a jaw dropping display of strength and control, he lifts both legs back to straight, then lowers them into a straddle and calmly raises his right arm so that he is balancing on just his left paw, clasping his right foot with the other. He then repeats maneuver with the opposite arms and after grasping the bars with both paws once again, he proceeds to ‘walk’ across the bars. Just before he reaches the end, he lowers his knee to his right arm while keeping the other leg straight and bends his arms into a flying crow pose, repeating the move with the opposite legs before finally lowering them to the ground. I am about to start clapping, when, without so much as a pause for breath, he leaps up to the high bar, pulls himself into a straddle handstand and spins around it a few times before somersaulting to the next horizontal bar which is a little lower than the first. He swings and turns in the air, performing feats that an olympic gymnast would have been proud of, before alighting on the balance beam. With an ease that makes it look as though he is taking a stroll down the high street, he dances across the slender suede covered beam on his tiptoes, pausing halfway to perform an arabesque with his leg up next to his ear, onto a dancer's pose where he reaches back to clasp his foot to the back of his head, followed swiftly by a split leap and just in case that wasn’t quite enough, an impressive salto (which is a forward somersault while doing the splits at the same time to you and me!) Despite his size, he surprisingly agile as he shimmies up a rope to the trapeze which he uses to swing and somersault to the high wire. I watch with bated breath as he tentatively makes his way across, his tail swinging from side to side in order to aid him in his quest to retain his balance. For a few tense moments, he pauses a few feet from the end, seeming to be afflicted by a slight wobble, before he somersaults clear and slides down a metal pole, pausing halfway to perform a few more gravity defying tricks which make me gasp and hold a hand to my mouth. It is then that I notice he has been joined by Plato and Alonzo, who are doing their best to mirror his movements, although they do not make it look quite as effortless as Munkustrap does I have to say! All the while, the Tabby has leapt onto a unicycle and is riding it around the perimeter, to inaugural shouts and cheers from a small crowd of cats who have gathered to watch their Protector do his thing. I had been so engrossed in watching Munkustrap that I hadn't noticed the spectators appear. Looking rather amused, Plato picks up various objects, including juggling balls, and orange, an apple and a banana and starts chucking them in Munkustrap's direction. Munkustrap catches and juggles them one by one, balancing the banana on the end of his nose, while still riding around! Then, as Munkustrap passes him, Plato leaps and lands with his feet on Munkustrap's shoulders, keeping his balance perfectly. Alonzo then somersaults backwards off the tyre stack he has jumped onto, landing in a handstand and clasping Plato's paws. While this is happening, the crowd is going wild with excitement, when all of sudden the banana falls off Munkustrap nose, lands with a splat on the floor and, unable to avoid the squidgy hazard, he accidentally rides over it.   
“LOOK OUT!” I hear myself yell, but the three cats have already leapt up in quick succession, turning in the air, and finish their routine with a flourish as if nothing has gone awry! However they are forced to cover their heads with their paws as the objects that Munkustrap had been juggling rain down on top of them with a ‘bop!’, ‘pit! and a ‘phut!’ Meanwhile, the unicycle has crashed into a pile of scrap metal and exploded into several pieces, but luckily this is ignored out by the crowd as it erupts and surges forward, greeting, pawing and clapping the heavily panting trio on their backs. Plato and Alonzo seem to relish the attention but the ever dignified Munkustrap shrugs them off, bending down to pick up a crumpled wheel that has limped and landed at his feet. He glances sheepishly at me as I walk over, his chest heaving as he tries to get his breath back.  
"Whoops! That wasn't meant to...happen! I guess that'll teach me to...show off!" It is only the second time I have seen him crack a smile, though it only lasts for a moment, meanwhile, the goldfish is back!  
"Oh my God! That was AMAZING!" I exclaim.  
He shrugs, tossing the wheel to one side. Then he absent mindedly rotates his left arm and massages his shoulder with his right paw, as if it is bothering him. "It could've been better, but then I am a little out of practice and it doesn't help that the old shoulder is playing up today either!"  
"Why's that? Old injury?"  
"Last year I suffered a dislocated shoulder, a broken collarbone and a fractured rib as a result of the run in with my brother that I mentioned earlier."  
"Ouch!"  
"Yeah I must admit, it hurt quite a bit actually! It took me a long time get back into things, but I have an amazing Trainer. I would not have been able to do what I just did if it had it not been for his ridiculously grueling training program. It was definitely worth the torture though, seeing as eight months ago I couldn't even lift my arm let alone put weight on it."  
"Well! Well done you! I thought you were phenomenal considering! Where did you learn to do all that stuff?"  
"Right here. I usually prefer to train by myself, actually. It is all part of the training that starts almost as soon as we can walk and I must have fallen off that balance beam over a million times! If you thought I was good you should see some of the younger ones!" He points to the obstacle course, where cats are pouring onto the apparatus as we speak, each individual is hell bent on trying to outperform the other, with a few not afraid to do the dirty on their fellow acrobats. I even clock a few of them pushing their neighbours off the balance beam! When all of a sudden a large charcoal tom with a handsome yellow ochre mane and paws peppered with leopard spots comes barging through the lot of them, knocking them down like daffodils in the rain storm. He swaggers right up to us, thumbs on his studded belt, as if he hadn’t a care in the World, but the World had better pay attention to him as he fills the space with his oversized personality!   
“Hey Munk,” he hollers, “what's all this friggin noise dude, can't a guy get some sleep around here? The ball isn't supposed to start for another few months!” He sticks his whiskery face right into mine and I have to screw up my own face a little as his whiskers tickle my nose and eyes. He gives me a good sniff, then turns to Munkustrap. "Say, this is an odd looking Jellicle. I had no idea you were recruiting humans as well! Or are you getting desperate?"  
“Don’t be so vulgar!” Munkustrap growls.  
I hold out my hand.   
"Zara Forbes of Fullmoon Magazine. I am doing an article for next month's edition, all about Jellicle Cats. I want to dispel any myths about you and tell the truth about your lives once and for all, as well as have you answer some reader questions if that's alright. And you are?" He bows low, takes my hand and gives it a very tickly kiss!   
"THE one and only Rum Tum Tugger at your service lovely lady! Jellicle Cat extraordinaire and sexiest beast that ever lived! How come you’re interviewing this doosh? Fancy interviewing someone a bit more interesting?" He winks. Meanwhile, Munkustrap is pinching the bridge of his nose with a somewhat pained expression on his face.  
"Tugger we discussed this. I do the talking remember? Don’t worry, I mentioned you…”  
“Mentioned me? Mentioned me?!”  
“Yes, mentioned you…”  
“Say anything good about me? Come on, how could you not? Zara what’s he said about me?”  
“I told the truth. Now if you'll excuse us, I would hate for Zara to have to edit you out of this interview completely…”  
"All right Munkus, keep your fur on, geesh! Now if YOU don't mind I have important business to attend to..."  
"Your interrupted nap?"  
"A nap maybe construed as important business bro. What can I say? It’s a tough life but someone’s gotta do it, so that others don’t have to! Later suckers!" As he struts over to where a group of queens are sitting, Munkustrap breathes a visible sigh of relief.   
"Thank Heaviside for that! I thought he would never leave. Sorry about him, he can be a bit erm, much shall we say?"  
"Oh honestly Munkustrap it's quite alright, I thought he was rather charming actually!"  
"Tsk! You would!"  
"Why does he act like that? You know all…?" I do a miming impression of the rockstar Prince.  
"'Cos ee feels frea'ened, I dunno!" It isn't Munkustrap who speaks, but a stocky ginger, white and black torby tabby with a broad east London accent, who has snuck up behind us. An almost identical looking Queen smiles cheekily by his side, her paws on her lower back, causing her neatly protruding belly to stick out even more. Around her neck is an enormous brick of a camera (which I realise is Dave’s camera) and a string of pearls. "Seriously don't let is confident expression fool ya, cos it's all a big act. In reali'y ee's one of the most insecure cats in the entire tribe."  
"Oh? And why is that...Mr...?"  
"Mungojerry. And this is me sis Rumpleteazer." She giggles,   
"We're famous dan't ya know..."  
"For being a notorious pain the backside..." Munkustrap mutters. She ignores him and hands the camera back to a rather disgruntled looking Dave and then strikes a pose,   
“Let’s ‘av a photo! Ah go on! CHEEESE!”  
"So yeah," Mungojerry carries on, "Ee is envious of Mun'ustrap cos Mun'ustrap is the 'igher rankin' male inee! Ain’t it obvious?"  
"Ee can show off all ee likes," Rumpleteazer continues, "but us older queens can see straight frough im. Ee's all math and no trahsers. It's only the stupid kittens he's able to pull the wool ova, still can't beat im for tryin’ though! Even Bomba came to er senses in the end, once she'd taken off them rose tinted glasses."  
"One of these days I am going to put a fist through that ego of his!" Munkustrap grumbles in agreement, his tail swinging gently from side to side. Mungojerry claps and rubs his paws together,   
"Right then wi' vat in mind, must be awf! Fings ta do people ta see an' all vat..." Giving a cheery wave, Mungojerry slinks passed Munkustrap and is about disappear into the forest of junk when Munkustrap grabs hold of his shoulder and yanks him back.   
"Not so fast Mungojerry. I believe you have something that belongs to our guest?"  
"I ain't got the foggiest idea what you're tawkin abaht!" He smiles nervously. I'm a little perplexed, as Munkustrap holds out his paw.   
"Hand it over!"  
"'And wha' over?" Munkustrap grabs an old pillowcase that Mungojerry is trying to hide behind his back. He then gives it a shake, causing it to make a jingly sound, all the while fixing Mungojerry with a hard stare. Mungojerry seems to physically wilt. "Er...oh tha', yeah, it's just somethin' I found..." He scratches the back of his neck, while Munkustrap empties out the contents of the pillow case on to the floor.  
"My things!" I hurriedly bend down to retrieve my watch, earrings, bracelet, necklace, journal, pen, car keys, lighter and purse. “What the hell...?” Mungojerry tries to sneak off, but Munkustrap pulls him back.   
"I believe Mungojerry has something to say to you," he growls, "Well!?”  
"Sorry Miss,” he says guiltily, “we were gonna bring it back, honest! Weren't we Teaz?" He glances nervously at his sister who looks down at her feet.  
"Yeah cawse we were!" she says unconvincingly.  
"Stealing from our guest?” growls Munkustrap, “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, and as for you Rumpleteazer, I am particularly disappointed that you insist on carrying on with your thieving ways, despite the fact that you are soon to be a mother! Now get out of my sight the pair of you, or I'll have you scrubbing the floors for a week!" As the pair scurry away, he turns to me, looking very apologetic.   
"I am terribly sorry, I honestly don't know what to say."  
"It's ok Munkustrap, it's not like it was your fault! And don't worry, I'm not angry! Hey! I just got robbed by Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer! How awesome is that?"  
He is about to say something else when we notice the sleek brown Burmese slinking over to us, her heavily lidded green eyes fixed piercingly on Munkustrap. Ignoring me completely, she wraps her delicate arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his cheek and quietly whispering something inaudible to me in his ear, in an obviously flirtatious manner, while Munkustrap, smiling apologetically at me, calmly untangles her arms from around his shoulders, and cups both of her paws in his. Not unkindly, but in a voice that sounds as though he is treading on broken glass, he says,   
"Cassandra, do you think we could do this some other time? I am a little busy right now." Clearly displeased with the obvious brush off, Cassandra bares her teeth slightly, and then, shooting first him and then me a look of pure venom, defiantly stalks away into the crowd, leaving me feeling completely shocked and Munkustrap looking extremely guilty.   
"What was that all about?" I demand, but the look on his face says it all.  
"Er...I am so dead, um...yeah, she just wanted...Never mind! Do you have all of your belongings? Nothing is missing?"  
"No I don't think...oh wait! My engagement ring!" I frantically check the floor.  
"Don't worry, I shall personally see to it that you are reunited with ALL of your belongings. In the meantime, come with me, there is someone I want you to meet." We start walking over to the sixteen feet of wooden climbing frame, which I think is supposed to resemble a tree, with a thick cylindrical central mast and thinner beams sticking out of it in a rough spiral. On our approach I notice the small crowd of cats gathered underneath it seem to be rather agitated, as Munkustrap makes his way towards a beautiful white queen who is staring upwards with a worried look on her porcelain face and her paws are cupped over her mouth.  
"Victoria? Is everything alright?" he asks, looking concerned. Tears well up in her panic stricken eyes as she shakes her head and points to a spot high above our heads. Both Munkustrap and I crane our necks to see what she is pointing at and I can just make out a speck of white clinging to a wooden beam about ten feet up. I can also hear the faint mews of a terrified kitten and, being a mother myself, I can only imagine what Victoria must be going through! Without uttering another word, Munkustrap spurs into action. He heads straight to the base of the climbing frame, jumps and pulls himself up to the lowest beam. I hear the scratch of claws on wood as he climbs higher, until he reaches the small figure of Plato, who is still desperately trying to talk his daughter down. What happened next was described to me by Munkustrap later on:

I clamber up next to Plato who is straining to reach his daughter with his paw, but he can't quite reach her. He calls, trying to sound calm, but I catch a slight wobble in his voice which gives away his feelings of sheer panic!   
"Come on Serran, come to Daddy...it's ok, I'm right here...Oh it's no good Munkustrap, she just won't budge!"  
“Let me try,” I say. So I scramble a little higher and slowly edge my way on my stomach along the beam that Serran is clinging to, trying to keep my demeanor calm and cheerful, despite the vertigo I am feeling. My Granddaughter is clinging to the very end of the beam which is too flimsy to take my weight, so I call softly, "Serran! Serran!" She peeps at me with one eye through her tiny paws. "Serran, what are you doing up here eh? You're a little high aren't you? You know, your mummy and daddy are very worried, why don't we climb down together and give mummy a big hug, stop her crying yeah?" The kitten looks up.   
"Mama?"  
"That's it Serran, can you scoot a little closer to me? I can't come any closer because I am too fat! I might break the pole and then we'll both fall down, won’t we, so you have to come to me. Keep your eyes on me, don't look down. See? I'm not looking down!"  
"I'm scared!"  
"Shall I tell you a secret, Serran? You mustn't tell anyone promise? OK. Munkustrap is scared too! Yes really! I would very much like to be on solid ground, so...Do you think you can help me down...maybe? Yeah that's it! Good girl! A little closer! A little closer! Almost. There. Just. A. Bit. Further. Gotcha!" It worked! I carefully grab the kitten by the scruff of the neck and gently ease her claws away from the wood, bringing her to my chest, where she proceeds to cling to my fur instead. "And remember," I remind her, as I start to climb down again with some difficulty as I now only have one paw to work with! "Not a word! It'll be our secret!"  
"Secret? Why Grandad?"  
"Well, because Grandad's aren't supposed to get scared are they?"

We all clap and cheer with relief as Munkustrap jumps down and hands the kitten to her grateful mother. "I don't know what all the fuss was about. She came to me just fine. In the meantime, perhaps Serran is a bit young to go climbing?"  
"We'll keep a closer eye on her next time! I didn't know she could climb so well!" Chuckles Plato. Victoria beams at us through her teary blue eyes in a wordless display of gratitude and Munkustrap hugs her.   
"I am just glad she is safe." To me he says, "If I had a fishy treat for every time I have to rescue a stuck kitten I would be as fat as Bustopher Jones! Zara, allow me to introduce you to Victoria my eldest daughter and this little adventurer is my Granddaughter Serran." With great pride he adds, "As it currently stands I have round about fifteen kittens, ten grandkittens and counting, although that may well be a rough estimate!"  
"You're a Grandad?” I gasp, “You don't look old enough!"  
"Tell me about it!"  
"Are all your kittens from the same mate?" I ask.  
"Don't be ridiculous, of course not! I have twelve mates at the moment." I think my mouth is now permanently stuck open!  
"Twelve?! Is that all?"  
Munkustrap frowns. "Do not look so shocked. It is perfectly normal practice for an alpha male such as myself to take many mates. In fact, my father is reported to have had ninety nine, so I've got some catching up to do! It is something that has been happening since the dawn of time, and the system ensures that only the best males get to mate. I don't really get much of a say in the matter though, for it is the queens who decide when they have kittens and who with. It just so happens that most of them want to have kittens with me, for whatever reason only they can tell you!" Munkustrap looks completely unperturbed as I slowly process this bombshell. I guess the Jellicle's way of doing things is completely alien to me, but to them I guess my way must seem pretty weird too!   
"Wow! So yours is a polygamous society?"  
"Isn't yours?"  
"No. Our society is strictly monogamous. Polygamy is completely frowned upon, but I guess it wasn't always that way and it is still practiced in some countries. I am due to marry my fiance next week."  
"Ah yes. That pointless ceremony you call marriage. From what I have seen, all it is is a vastly expensive excuse to show off to your friends how much disposable income you are willing to throw away on a pompous brag festival where you dress in ridiculous clothes and make promises before your God to one another that you have no intention of keeping."  
"That's not true!"  
"Isn't it? I can't imagine having to stay with the same person for my whole life, and I don't live as long as you. I see a lot of you humans seem to find it a struggle, as I'm sure I would. Blimey! We'd end up clawing each other's eyes out eventually! Plus, once queens become pregnant, they tend to be unavailable for at least a year as is the Jellicle custom. What am I supposed to do until then?  
My human has so far had three such ceremonies, each ending in disaster and tears, because either he or his mate cannot seem to stop themselves mating with complete strangers. Our way of doing things may not be perfect, but, apart from the odd bruised ego, no one ever gets hurt. If you humans can find a hard way to do something then you're sure to do it, so instead why not simply follow your instincts and do what comes naturally to you, surely that would be far easier? I do hope your marriage goes well by the way."  
"So do I now! Do you have a favourite mate?" He looks rather offended by that!   
"I do NOT have favourites!"  
"OK! But surely there must be a bit of rivalry?"  
"There is a little bit, but it's not usually malicious, because my queens know full well that I love them all dearly. Everyone is so close and we're all just working the the good of the tribe anyway, but then again, a little bit of healthy competition never hurt anyone. Ah and here comes another one of my daughters! Dear Excetera, daughter of Jellylorum."  
Another young queen has joined us, her face lighting up into a lovely cheeky grin when she sees Munkustrap and me. She has creamy white fur with buff, black and brown stripes, and is carrying a small mink point tom kitten on her hip, so she hugs me using her free arm, gazing up at my face with her adorably curious eyes. Almost instinctively, I feel like I just have have to rub between her ears, caressing her soft fur, and am delighted when she responds by purring and nuzzling me as if it is the most natural thing in the world, but then, as she goes to greet her father in the same way, I find myself surrounded by a group of yet more intrigued adolescents all clamouring for a stroke or a pet!  
"Hi Dad,” says Etcetera, as she rubs up against him, “how are you today?"  
"I'm not bad.” he smiles, putting an arm around her, “How's my Grandson?" Etcetera laughs,   
"He keeps on complaining that he's bored! So I'm hoping to tire him out in the play area." She looks into Victoria's face. "Victoria, there is a new training frame in the school yard, I'm about to take Eden and the others over there to play with Niobe and Nephele. Why don't you join us?" Victoria gives her a nod.  
"Ok I'll just grab my sister Electra and her twins." She skips over to where a tortoiseshell queen is sitting, while nursing two tiny kittens in her arms. She nods at us and we wave back, before Munkustrap turns to Victoria, looking lovingly into her face and speaking very clearly, making sure Victoria can see every syllable. He also makes shapes using his paws which match the words that he is speaking.

"Victoria have you seen your brother anywhere?" For the word ‘brother’ he raises his paws, squeezing and stretching out his fingers in quick succession. Being a mother to an autistic child, I instantly recognise this as a sign for ‘magician!’   
She shakes her head and points in the direction of the school yard, before shrugging and skipping to join Excetera and Electra.  
"I think she wants us to follow her," says Munkustrap.  
"Why doesn't she speak?" I ask.  
"She is deaf."  
"Oh..." Of course! Having carried out extensive research prior to this interview, I really should have known that white cats with blue eyes are almost always profoundly deaf. “Poor Victoria! How does she manage?”  
“If there is a way, the Jellicles will find it. She has the loving support of her family around her and she doesn’t let her disability prevent her from leading a full and happy life, remarkably, she is also one of our finest dancers!” Rather reluctantly, I extricate myself from my affectionately fluffy entourage and wave them goodbye, gazing longingly at their disappointed little pouts. We walk to another part of the yard, to where a blackboard has been erected in front of crash mats, old bean bags and piles of moth eaten cushions, while dotted around are various objects, including a globe with a hole in it, piles of textbooks and boxes of crayons. A little way away is an enclosed play area, which is where Victoria, Plato, Electra and Etcetera have stopped to let their kittens play, whereas I follow Munkustrap as he makes his way over to the marmalade tabby who is standing in front of the blackboard. He looks to be about the same age as Munkustrap, and he is sporting a rather fetching waistcoat with a monocle attached to it on a thin gold chain, which is continually falling out of his eye, causing him to have to jam it back in again every two seconds, while his furrowed expression makes this action all the more comical! At the same time, he is also dramatically explaining something to a group of kittens who are sat on the cushions, and busily writing notes on slate tablets using pieces of chalk. Some are so engrossed in concentration that they have their tongues poking out of the side of their mouths and they don’t even look up when we approach them.   
"And that ma wee chooks, is how we crross tha rood! Ah Munkustrrap, to what do we owe the pleasure?"  
"Greetings cousin Skimbleshanks, it has been a while. How is Glasgow?"  
"Barmy as always! And who's thes? Friend of yers?"  
I step forward, once again holding out my hand, which Skimbleshanks gently takes with his paw and bows slightly.   
"Hello, I'm Zara Forbes, journalist for Fullmoon magazine and I am conducting an interview with Munkustrap to learn all out your tribe. I can't believe you have a school! Are you a teacher?"  
"Ahm Skimbleshanks tha Railway Cat. But when ahm not working on tha Night Train, ah com down to London to teach these wee kets. Say hellooo kets! Tell them what we've ben learning aboot." To which this kittens all answer in unison.  
"Hiiii Daaaad! Heello Zaaaraaaa Foooooorbes. Weee've been learning about roooad saaafety."  
"Tha's right. Sooo many poor cats are killed on tha roads, soo it's important to knoo what ur doing and how to stay sif."  
"Lovely to meet you all. What are your names?" I ask. One by one each of the seven kittens stands up, shouting out their names.   
"I'm Dolcie."  
"Hi I'm Lorian."  
"Hi I'm Dellasole."  
"I'm Oenone, Dellasole's sister."  
"Cosmica. Lorian is my twin brother. My mummy is called Tantomile."  
"I'm Elias, Dolcie's sister. My mum is called Jellylorum."  
"And I am Hesione, Dellasole and Oenone are my sisters. My mummy is called Jennyanydots."  
"And how old are you, and will you be going to the Jellicle Ball this year?" Cosmica pipes up,   
"No silly, we're too young! You have to have seen at least one Jellicle Moon before you can go to the ball and at least three before you receive a dedication. Hopefully we'll be going next year, that is, provided we pass our singing and dancing exams or else we will have to wait until the next one."  
"What is so special about a Jellicle Moon?" Dellasole puts her paw up.   
"Oh! Oh! I know! I know! It is a Moon that is bigger and brighter than any other, it only appears once a year and marks the beginning of spring, a season which symbolises rebirth and lies at the very heart of the Jellicle Ball." Skimbleshanks smiles.   
"Very goot kettens! Right it es play tiyme. Off you goo!" With a resounding,  
"Yeeeeaaaaaah!"! The kittens all race to the play area, beyond which I can just make out a small patch of grass where a small group of older kittens are playing football with Rum Tum Tugger, and if I am not mistaken, they seem to be beating him!  
"Why are you teaching them about road safety? Do you teach them anything else?"  
"Of course, we teach them mathematics, reading, writing, Jellicle history, science, music, art and geography. Munkustrap here does some of the teaching, but we also have Jellylorum, Jennyanydots and Old Deuteronomy now and again as well. Hey Munkustrap, ye Niece has started teachin' as well, she is such a clever wee lass that one! Today we teach them aboot tha road, because we lose soo many cats to cars, it's an absolute travesty." Munkustrap seems keen to move on.   
"You do a great job Skimble. By any chance have you seen Mistoffelees? I thought he might be here."  
"Noo sorry. He's not here. Have you tried the Infirmary? Your Niece just went up there with her mother. Said they were both feeling unwell."  
"No not yet, we'll check there now. Will you be joining us in The Wellington Arms later on by any chance? We're planning a bit of a jam in honour of our guest."  
"Of course, ah won't be a missin thaat. Buy noo!"  
Munkustrap leads me across the yard. We are about to enter into a dark entrance to a cave made from scrap metal car parts and tyres, when without warning, something black with flashing red eyes comes flying out of the darkness with an ear piercing shriek! I scream blue murder and Munkustrap barely has time to react before he is sent flying backwards into a pile of junk, creating an almighty ‘CRRAAASH!’. He is back on his feet again in an instant and the pair begin to do battle, attacking one another with lightning fast paw swipes, roundhouse kicks, jumps, no handed cartwheels, and backflips. I am utterly mesmerized by the sheer power and grace of their movements, for it looks more like a carefully choreographed dance than a fight, until the lithe figure suddenly pounces on Munkustrap's back! As quick as a flash, Munkustrap reaches around and grabs the snarling creature, slams him into the floor and pins him down with his foot pressed against his throat. His teeth are bared, his tail is slashing the air and he appears to have doubled in size, although as the dust settles, I realise that this is because his fur is standing on end, for as it begins to lie flat once more, he is back to his normal size again. I am completely taken aback by his sudden display of ferocity, but am in for another shock when, instead of dealing his attacker a killing blow, he bursts out laughing instead! Then he reaches down, grabs the black figure by his paw and hauls him to his feet, before giving him a firm clap on the back.  
"Gordon Bennett Rumpus!” he pants, “If I'd wanted flying lessons I'd have blooming well asked for them, you almost gave me a heart attack!" The figure chuckles evilly,  
"Ha ha, I got you good didn't I? You should have seen your face! But on a serious note, I must congratulate you, as my student you are showing great improvement!"  
“All thanks to you and your nasty surprises I don't doubt! You do realise that I could easily have killed you just then?"  
"That was all part of my plan and you may think me reckless, but I know what I am doing, for I have successfully trained many a young warrior such as yourself the art of battle. Besides, you will thank me when you are not dead."  
"Well if the Hidden Paw doesn't kill me, then your training program certainly will!” He notices my shocked appearance. “Don't look so alarmed Zara,” he reassures me, “we do this all the time, Old Rumpus and me go way back, I promise you he's not as scary as he looks!" Nervously I shake Rumpus Cat’s paw. He is smaller and more slender than Munkustrap, but with rippling muscles bulging out through his graphite coloured body, and as for those eyes! They are completely red, like two flaming rubies. On closer inspection I can see he is a sphinx, being completely hairless except for a fine wiry fuzz, which I realise is his underfur. Through some cruel twist of breeding he is completely missing the outer guard hairs, giving him a rather odd appearance.   
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he says, pointing to the ‘R’ emblazoned on his white chest, "I am The Great Rumpus Cat, supercat warrior, Catpoeira Master and dog fighter. Munkustrap asked me to train him up last year and I only agreed to it because he gave me the dedication at the Ball that I requested, so I owed him a favour. Suffice to say that I am pleasantly surprised to see how far he has come, seeing as last year our training was little more than a physiotherapy session, when he could barely stand up, let alone fight. It is now a dream of mine to turn him into a seasoned warrior. Yet alas! I'm still dreaming!"  
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Munkustrap folds his arms and glares at him, “I’ll have you know that I have trained every single day, without fail I might add, so what is your problem? Is blood, pain and tears not enough for you, for I have no more to give! You ask for one hundred and ten per cent, so I give you one hundred and ten per cent, but then you demand two hundred and ten per cent! I cannot win!”  
"My dear Munkustrap!” sighs Rumpus Cat in exasperation, “It is not that I do not appreciate the effort you have put in, really I do! But if you are to defeat your enemies, then you really must learn to take criticism a little better, for there is something that you must never do whilst engaging in combat, and yet you keep doing it!"  
"Oh? And what's that then?"  
"You must never turn your back to your opponent. It is a good job my claws were not out, or what if I had been a pollicle?"  
"I'd have run like Cat Everlasting."  
"Wrong! What do I keep telling you? If you turn and run from a pollicle then you will be showing him your backside, which means you are inviting him to chase you and, as he will not stop until he has caught you, it is better to face him and show him who is the boss. Having defeated many a pollicle that way, I have never run away like some scared rabbit! You see, it is all in the mind, for if you are willing to believe you that you will succeed, then you will. Be sure to heed my advice, for if you fight like you did just a minute ago, then you will succeed in defeating your greatest foe, provided you do not turn your back on him!"  
"Whatever you say Rumpus, I am not totally convinced, still I would rather meet a pollicle than my brother, at least pollicles are not evil, just hungry a lot of the time, so it is possible to reason with them. On the other paw, trying to reason with Macavity is like telling the sky not to rain on you!" Suddenly Rumpus cat’s eyes widen like a couple of saucers!  
"Macavity? Where? Please excuse me, I have to dash!" And in a flash he has disappeared into the gloom, Munkustrap staring after him with a look of disbelief. He shakes his head,  
"I'll never understand that cat! He has fought packs of feral dogs and yet he runs screaming like a little kitten as soon as Macavity's name is mentioned! Don't get me wrong, he is a superb fighter and teacher, but he's not exactly the sharpest tooth in the jaw, plus he doesn't half wind me up!"  
"If he gets on your nerves, why do you allow him to train you?" I ask.  
"Simple answer. He's the best. And I don't like losing! Plus, as much as it pains me greatly to admit it, he is right. I do need to learn to take criticism better, for sometimes my pride can become so overly inflated that it can be hard to stomach let alone swallow, and to allow it to get the better of me would mean a chink in my armour that enemies would be only too happy to exploit. I’m not about to tell him that though!"  
We enter the tunnel, winding through the maze of scrap piles until we come to a giant mountain of junk.   
“We're not going to climb that are we?” I think to myself, “I'm wearing my best shoes!” Munkustrap, noticing my apprehensiveness, kindly offers me his paw and guides me up the surprisingly solid pile of scrap metal and old microwaves, catching me and holding me firmly whenever my foot slips, until presently, we come to a wooden door.  
"This is our Infirmary.” he explains, “we have a special arrangement with the scrapyard owners, so that this area is left alone as there are residents here all the time." He pushes it open and we climb inside the junk pile and emerge into a cavernous space, separated into cubicles by a network of curtains. Inside each cubicle is a bed, table and chair, some also containing odd looking machines and hospital equipment, also a few of the beds are occupied, I am guessing by a number of the yard's sick residents. There is a pile of crash mats and toys in front of us, which I take to represent some sort of waiting room and sitting on one of the crash mats are a couple of calico and white queens. Both are petite, but one of them has black markings with slashes of gold striking through her fur like bolts of lightning, while the smaller of the two is similar in appearance, except that she has slashes of reddish brown instead of gold and they are both wearing spiked collars. They are clearly well known to the Tabby, for he excitedly rushes over to greet them and there ensues such a great deal of head bumping, paw clasping and face nuzzling, that I almost feel as though I am being left out of some sort of secret conversation! A worried frown suddenly crosses Munkustrap’s finely chiseled features, as if he suddenly remembers why he is there.  
"Demeter, is everything alright?” he asks, “Skimbleshanks informed me that you weren't well."  
"Just a feeling a bit under the weather that's all," the Gold queen reassures him, "I thought I would take Jemima with me to see Doctor Jazzie just to be on the safe side.” Something over Munkustrap’s shoulder suddenly catches her eye. “Say, what's Tugger doing here? Not ill too I hope!" Just as she says this, then who should saunter in? Only The Curious Cat himself! I swear he is stalking us!  
"Hey ladies, what's up? You know me, I'm far too cool to get ill! Nah I'm here to see my buddy Tumblebrutus, he broke his arm earlier. Oh and Bombalurina is over there somewhere." He waves his paw nonchalantly in the general direction. Jemima, the smaller of the two torties, who has said nothing thus far, suddenly starts heaving and retching into the pot she that she is clutching, while her concerned mother rubs her back with her paw in a comforting fashion, and when she raises her head again, I can tell by her large sorrowful eyes that she must be feeling pretty rotten. Rum Tum Tugger, however, just gawps at her, while at the same time, a slightly disgusted grimace passes over his normally nonplussed features, "Riiiight,” he says, stepping away, “I'm just gonna go over here..." And with that, he swaggers off down the corridor. I watch him as he peeps into a cubicle and greets someone in there. "Heeeeey! Brutus my man! What the heck happened to you?"  
Just then, a stranger approaches us. I immediately identify her to be a Snowshoe, with the classic siamese colouring of rich chestnut and creamy white fur, plus a brown mask framing her sky blue eyes. She also has dainty white paws that make it look as though she is wearing little gloves and snow boots and apart from her obviously gravid midsection, the rest of her figure is slight and slender. This time it is she who extends a friendly paw and greets me in a soft spoken French accent,   
"Bonsoir Zara, Tugger as already told me all about you. Je suis Doctor Jazzminora, but my friends call me Jazzie! Welcome to our Infirmary. Demeter and Jemima would you like to come srough? Ah! Bonjour Munkustrap! I'd like to see you after if you don't mind. You've missed sree check ups!"  
"Sorry Jazzie. I've been busy..."  
"Excuses excuses!" She winks at me. "Ee's trouble zis one!" Demeter fixes her with a cool stare and says haughtily,   
"Dr. Jazzie, I would much rather see Jennyanydots or Jellylorum!"  
"I'm sorry Demeter,” Jazzie’s apology is smeared with honeyed tones, giving the impression that there isn’t a great deal of love lost between these two queens, “she's busy in se kittens’ ward tending to some very sick batients. Jellylorum isn't on her shift right now and my ozzer nurses are tied up at ze moment, so zere's only me I'm afraid. Would you razzer come back tomorrow?" Demeter suddenly looks as if she is about to faint as she sways unsteadily on her feet, and I imagine that the skin underneath her calico fur must have turned a fetching shade of jade. Upon noticing this, Munkustrap quickly places an arm around her just in case she topples over, and she leans into him, seemingly grateful for the support. Then her legs start to look as though they have lost interest in keeping her upright, so Munkustrap gently lowers her to the floor, allowing her to sit on his lap while he nuzzles her head.  
"Come on Demeter!” he tries to reason with her, “Can't you two put your differences aside? Go get yourself seen to. For me." We all wait in silence as Demeter takes a few deep breaths with her eyes closed and slowly comes to a decision. Finally, she relents.  
"Oh! All right!” she sighs, “Come on Jemima we'll go together." She wobbles unsteadily to her feet and, with as much dignity as she can muster, shoulders passed Dr. Jazzie and marches into a cubicle with Jemima following close behind, still clutching her pot, while Dr. Jazzie smiles at me as she turns to follow them.  
"Why don't you go and see Bombalurina?” she suggests, “She's in se cubicle at se end. And Munkustrap? Be a dear and make us all a cup of tea? I shall join you shortly, for I could really use a break!"  
“Of course Jazzie, anything for you!” he says with a smile and, was that a cheeky wink? Well, I never!  
We make our way down to the end of the corridor, pausing at one of the cubicles where a white tom with brown and black stripes is sitting on a bed talking to Rum Tum Tugger and being tended to by a shimmering blue black Korat who introduces herself as Hortenseya. "Hello Tumble. No guesses as to how that came about?" Munkustrap points to the sling around Tumblebrutus's neck which is cradling his bandaged right arm.  
"Fell off that bleedin' climbing frame didn't I! Some stunt that went wrong. I'll never live that down...!" He hides his head using his other paw in an over exaggerated display of shame.  
"Is anyone actually going to talk to me today or what?" Snaps the curtain separating the cubicles, "Or have you all forgotten that I exist!"  
"I'll be right with you Bomb,” Munkustrap calls, “ I just have have to go make the tea."  
"I'll do it Munk!” offers Rum Tum Tugger suddenly, “you go see your daughter."  
"Oh, well, if you’re sure...”  
“Course I’m sure you daft apeth! Go and see her. She’s a babe!”  
“Thank you Tugger." Looking somewhat confused Munkustrap pulls back the curtain to reveal a stunning red Somali queen who is reclining in a hospital bed, while nestled in the crook of her arm is a tiny kitten, whose colouring is most peculiar. On closer inspection I see that she is silvery white with a vague suggestion of marbled stripes, which closely resemble the stripes that flow across Munkustrap’s body like sunlight reflecting off the kinetic waters of a shadowy lake, and as the proud father himself kneels by the bedside, I don’t think that the smile which is beaming across his face could possibly be any wider!  
"I'm sorry Bomb,” he says quietly, so as not to wake his little daughter, “I would have come sooner, only Jazzie advised me that you needed to rest."  
"Rest?” snaps Bombalurina irritably, “I've had all the rest I can possibly stomach, what with the two months of pregnancy, not to mention being ten days overdue and then having to endure an agonising forty eight hour labour which culminates in an emergency cesarean and a hemorrhage that nearly kills me! I’ll have you know that I haven't moved from this bed for nigh on two days, and to top it all off, this thing has kept me awake for most of that time, and I guess what? It's all your fault! I’ll tell you what, how about don't ever come near me again, you irresistible fiend! Like EVER! I really mean it this time as well!" As she says this, she aggressively jabs a claw in his direction, but rather than having the desired effect of intimidating her mate, it merely serves to amuse him, for Munkustrap lets out a low chuckle and, holding up his paws in mock submission, replies in a condescending tone,   
"I shall be most intrigued to see how long that lasts for my dear!” Then, standing firm under her lead-melting glare, he quickly adds, “May I hold my little Snow Bengal now?"  
"Be my guest!" Unable to think of a suitable a counterargument, she contents herself to huffs of vexation instead, but I notice there is a slight gleam in her eye when she smirks sideways towards us, showing that she wasn’t really being serious. With a devotion that completely contradicts her previous outburst, she passes the little kitten over to Munkustrap, who gently takes hold of her and cradles his daughter in his arms, slowly rocking her backwards and forwards as she kicks limbs which look so fragile that they could be mistaken for daisy stems! She gives a wide, toothless yawn, which is followed by the cutest little sneeze that racks her whole body and appears to startle her. However, just before she has a chance to cry, she is quickly soothed back to sleep again by a rumbling purr which reverberates from deep within his chest. With his eyes full of adoration for this miniscule ball of fluff that is snuzzling contentedly into his fur, it is clear that he has fallen completely head over heels in love, becoming quite oblivious to the rest of us in the vicinity. While he softly sings to her, I find it so curious to see such an outwardly powerful tom displaying such doting tenderness, that I find myself diving for my tissues again! Being the ultimate father figure, I can see why he is so popular with the ladies!  
"Enormous congratulations to you both,” I snivel, “beautiful isn’t the word! Have you given her a name yet?" Munkustrap shrugs and glances over at Bombalurina.   
"That's your prerogative, I'm not really fussed either way."  
"Good, then you won't mind if I call her Frozwyn. In means Winter Frost in ancient Feline, sorry I couldn’t come up with anything better, but imaginative names aren’t exactly my forte!"  
"Well I think that's a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” I interject, “honestly I really think it suits her! Hello baby Frozwyn! Wow, what a Goddess you are!"  
Just then Jazzie walks in, closely followed by Demeter and Jemima, who is still holding her stomach. In fact, their manner is distinctly subdued and they avoid making eye contact with anyone. Demeter is ringing her paws and is looking markedly more distressed than Jemima, so Munkustrap, immediately snapping out of his blissful reverie, urgently passes the kitten to me, while at the same time being as careful as can be so as not to disturb her, and goes to his other mate. However, her manner is rather standoffish, as she turns her back on him and stares up at the ceiling in a bid to fight off the tears which are forming inside them. Placing a delicate arm around her mother’s shoulders, it is Jemima's turn to offer comfort.  
In the midst of all of this drama, I think that I have become as totally smitten as Munkustrap has, owing to the fact that Frozwyn is as light as a butterfly’s wing and her baby fluff is silky like angel’s candyfloss. How I long to go on cuddling her forever as she blindly nuzzles into my arm, appearing to be searching for something in particular. I’m guessing she can't be more than a few days old, judging by her sealed eyelids and ears which are folded up like crumpled tissue paper. She even has that indescribably irresistible ‘baby smell’, which I am addicted to at the best of times, as my friends will tell you!   
"It's alright Mum!” soothes Jemima, “Do you want me to tell them?" Demeter presses her lips together and nods, the tears threatening to leak out of her hazel eyes and Jemima beams at us, her wide open face and huge golden eyes lighting up. "We're pregnant!" she announces.  
‘CRRRRAAAAASH!’ The sound of exploding ceramic suddenly rents through the stunned atmosphere, making us all jump out of our skins, and this is closely followed by a muffled,   
"Sorry!" coming from the direction of the kitchen!  
"Don't worry Tugger!" Jazzie calls exasperatedly.  
All the while, Demeter has completely lost it and is now crying into Munkustrap's shoulder, soaking it with tears and slobber, but despite this, Munkustrap doesn't seem to mind that much. He patiently strokes her head, waiting for her to calm down. At the same time he emits a quiet purr, which seems to sooth Demeter's frazzled nerves. “Cats cry?” I think, “Who knew?”  
Meanwhile Tumblebrutus has coming bounding in with a,   
"Yippee! I'm gonna be a dad! I'm gonna be a flippin dad!" I feel so honoured to be a part of this, even as I reluctantly hand the now mewling Frozwyn back to her mother for a feed and go to embrace Jemima. "Another congratulations is in order, is this your first?"  
"Yes, me and Tumble only got together last year" she replies. Meanwhile, Tumblebrutus is beside himself with excitement. He hugs and kisses Jemima with his free arm, then he hugs me, followed by Jazzie and is about to hug Munkustrap, but then thinks better of it and instead stands in front the larger male, unsure of what to do with himself. Scratching his head, he titters nervously,  
"Looks like you're going to be a sort of uncle Granddad Munkustrap, haha!"  
"You don't say!” Munkustrap replies tersely, but his tone quickly mellows at the sight of his ecstatically smiling Niece. “No, I am happy, honest, it is just that I feel very old now!" He looks at Demeter. "Come on Demie, it’s not the end of the World!" Demeter looks up nervously, eyes glistening with tears.  
"But I can't do this again Munkustrap, can’t you see? What with one kitten missing presumed dead, three miscarriages and a stillborn, I just can't face it happening again!" Jemima interrupts her own miniature celebration in order to lace her arms around her mother once again.  
"Mum it's not going to happen again!” she reasoned, “And do you know why it’s not? Because I am going to be with you all the way this time, I promise! Please excuse me!" She claps a paw to her mouth and dashes out of the cubicle. Munkustrap looks as though he is about to follow her, but Demeter, having regained her composure, grabs his arm.  
"I'll go, after all I'm pregnant, not infirm!" However it is Tumblebrutus who steps in front of her, blocking her path.  
"Nah I'll see to her if you like Demeter,” he says enthusiastically, “you stay put and, put your feet up or something!" With that he dashes out of the cubical after Jemima. Suddenly, Jazzie claps her paws together.  
"D'accord Munkustrap! Whilst we're waiting for our tea, how about zat check up? You know it's long overdue, but it shouldn't take long, we can conduct it here, oui?" Munkustrap shrugs in reply which Jazzie takes to mean,  
“OK, whatever.”  
"Right zen, sit on sis chair please." Munkustrap obediently obeys and crosses his legs underneath him, which I have noticed, is the way that they all prefer to sit. "Se first sing I am going to do is check your blood pressure," she informs him. She wraps a band around Munkustrap's arm, using a hand pump to blow air into it so that it tightens whilst she looks at the gauge. She then writes down the result on a clipboard that is balanced on her lap. "One hundred and forty mmhg..."  
"Wow that's high!" I exclaim, recalling that the last time that mine was checked it was only one hundred and twenty over eighty millimeters of mercury for those who are interested!  
"For humans yes, but for cats zat's perfectly normal." Next she grabs Munkustrap's wrist with her thumb and forefingers and looks at her pocket watch.  
"Two hundred and ten beats per minute, I'd say zat was a little fast, but then that's to be expected given ze circumstances!" Next she uses a stethoscope to listen to his breathing.  
"Big bress in...and out, and again, bress in...and out. Zat all sounds good! If you could pop yourself on ze scales?" Munkustrap steps on a set of mechanical scales at the foot of the bed.  
"Ok zat's good. I am glad to see zat you put all zat weight back on again! Sit yourself back down, I'm going to check your shoulder. Just relax your arm!" She gently lifts up his left arm, articulating it this way and that. "Are you feeling any discomfort when I do zis?"  
"It is a little stiff today, but apart from that, no. I have lost a bit of strength and flexibility in my shoulder, but it does appear to be coming back, though maybe not as quickly as I would like it to. It is a good job that I am right pawed really or I would be well and truly stuffed!"  
"Any tingling or numbness in ze digits?"  
"A little bit, but it is not nearly as bad as it was."  
"Still doing se exercises?" He nods.  
"Everyday."  
"Not overdoing eet I ope?" Jazzie looks at him sternly. Munkustrap's ears appear to have reddened slightly.  
"Nope, I am definitely not over doing it!" He gives me the tiniest of winks and a look that says “Shut up!” The next thing that Jazzie does is to part the thick fur on Munkustrap’s shoulder to uncover an angry looking scar, which extends from his shoulder blade, right down to his elbow.  
"How are your scars?” Jazzie asks as she examines it, “Do sey urt, or feel swollen at all?"  
"They itch sometimes,” Munkustrap admits, “but they don't give me too much trouble, at least not like they did." Further checks reveal more scars like this forming four score marks on each arm and shoulder blade, as well as smaller ones on his legs, torso and back, and puncture marks at the base of the back of his neck. Those marks could only have been made by one thing, a set of monstrous claws and teeth! Meanwhile something tells me my face has just drained of all colour.  
"Munkustrap!” I gasp, “What the heck attacked you, a crocodile? That must have hurt?"  
"Like a pollicle mother!" he confesses.  
“When did this happen?” I ask with my hands over my mouth.  
“That run-in with my brother that I was telling you about? That!” he smiles at Jazzie and places a paw on her arm, “It was this remarkable lady who saved my life!” Jazzie smiles shyly.   
"You should ave seen im eight months ago,” she tells me, “ee was in a terrible state. Ee required roughly one hundred and eighty stitches, and lost almost five pints of blood, meaning zat he required sree blood transfusions in order to replace it, as well as a tracheotomy, because he stopped breathing and a thoracostomy, because a pneumothorax caused by a smashed rib in turn caused his lung to collapse. When he came in I thought he was dead. You wouldn't have recognised him because ee was completely covered."  
"With what?"  
"Wiz blood. I never see so much! We cats have protanopia, which means we cannot see ze colours green or red, zey just look grey or brownish to us. We are near sighted too, which makes doing close up work tres difficile, but zat's ze price we pay for seeing in ze dark I suppose. Sankfully Mr Mistoffelees made zese special glasses to help me to see, I could not function wizzout zem.” She shows me a pair of large wire spectacles with thick round lenses. “If you are a medical professional it is hard if you cannot see blood! And when I put zem on, poor Munkustrap’s fur was stained almost entirely red. He came very close to dying zat day."  
"Munkustrap how are you even still alive?" I ask, in complete awe for how tough these guys are.  
"I often ask that question myself," he shakes his head.  
"Are you kidding me?" interrupts Bombalurina, "He did die for Frigg's sake! I’m telling you, it was just awful, and it's taken us awhile to get over the sheer trauma of it all, never mind you Munkustrap!"  
"It is true," Munkustrap clarifies, "For while I do not remember much, Jazzie informed me that my heart stopped three times, which meant that I was technically dead for almost seventeen minutes, then I spent a more than a week in a sort of coma while hooked up to strange, beeping machines, and on top of all that, because Macavity's vile teeth and claws penetrated so deep, I developed an infection too. I must say that I received quite a shock when I came to with all of these strange tubes and wires attached to me, and unable to move a muscle. It was another week before I was able to get up and shuffle about, then another six months before the pain fully subsided and I will tell you now, that I have never experienced such agony in my entire life, so I would like to apologise now for how rude I was to you Jazzie. I vaguely remember begging you to let me die, which, much to my frustration at the time, you refused to allow. Consequently, I am now eternally grateful to you for keeping me alive!" He shudders.  
"Ah Munkustrap!” tuts Jazzie, patting his paw, “You know full well zat it was no trouble, for I am well aware of what pain can do to people, and you were so very brave, unlike your brozzer, for ee is a coward as well as a menace!" She prods the left side of his chest with her thumb and does the same to the area where his left collarbone is situated. "Ze fractures all seem to have healed up really nicely zough, and if I press hard enough I can feel ze titanium splints. Any aches or pains?"  
"No,” comes the reply, “I mean, it aches a bit but I guess that's normal, and I can't go into a shop now without setting off the alarm! Ow!" He winces suddenly.  
"Sorry did I press too hard?" she says guiltily, as she lifts his head with her paws and uses her thumb to gently pull back the lid of his right eye. "Your eye was badly scratched,” she mused, “I was sure you'd lose your sight, but, it looks really good, only a small scar. How is your vision?"  
"Almost back to normal, just a small shadow off to the left," he informs her.  
"Zat, I'm afraid may never go, but at least you didn't lose it completely, and, mercifully, no signs of brain damage or post traumatic stress disorder, you're also walking ok now, and your speech doesn't sound slurred at all. Do you get any headaches or visions? Loss of sleep or night terrors?"  
"I do get the odd flashback, but nothing really worth singing about."  
"Make sure you see Tantomile about zat won't you?"  
"Yes Ma'am!"  
"D'accord, merci beaucoup! Zat concludes your final check up, you are officially discharged now and I am so relieved as I am sure you must be! Zis cat is one tough cookie people, for how you were able to recover so quickly from such horrific injuries I'll never know! Just promise me one sing, zat it won't happen again!"  
"I wish I could say for certain that it won't, I really do. But with my brother still on the loose, I can't make any promises, but on the plus side, thank Heaviside we have you dear Jazzie! I owe my life, not only to this lady, her knowledge and her powers of healing, but also to my son Mistoffelees and his curious inventions! If only my predecessor had been so lucky."  
"Munkustrap certainly didn't waste any time after he recovered, did you dear?" Bombalurina smirks. "Jazzie when did you say your kitten was due?"  
"In a month's time. Don't worry, my amazing assistants Norstara, Lucitana and Hortenseya will cover for me, but I should be back at work soon after."  
"Oh so you and Rumpleteazer will be mummy sisters!” exclaims Bombalurina, “How sweet! You're slightly farther along than she is though aren't you?"  
"So is Rumpleteazer's kitten Munkustrap's too?" I ask out of curiosity, though by now I feel that I already know the answer.  
"Of course it is!” exclaims Bombalurina as though I had just asked the stupidest of questions. “Though he took some persuading, didn't you dear? Thought she was too young, so when he said no, she stalked him for about a week. It was hilarious! He eventually relented, to get rid of her I think! When a queen wants kittens, there's not a lot that'll stop her getting them that's for sure!"  
"Do we have to have this conversation?” Munkustrap grunts, and I notice that his ears have reddened slightly, “You do realise that I am sat right here?"  
"Oh! Is he getting all embarrassed?" Bombalurina seems to be enjoying herself immensely, so I can't help asking,  
"So Bombalurina, just out of curiosity, how come you chose Munkustrap? And not, say, Rum Tum Tugger, to have kittens with?" “Sorry Munkustrap!” I think, observing that his ears have now turned a lovely shade of scarlet, though luckily I now know that I am the only one who can see this!  
"Uh, I'm just going to go see how Tugger's getting on with that tea..." he mumbles, and exits the room faster than you can say "awkward!" The queens all exchange looks, and then burst into guffaws of laughter.   
"Well," says Bombalurina, wiping tears from her eyes, “isn't it obvious? I mean, the guy is just pure stud muffin on a plate, but at the same time, he's not 'in your face' about it, know what I mean? I'll admit, Tugger can be a little more fun to be around, but at the end of the day, when it comes to kittens, I have no need for fun, for the simple fact that I cannot rely on fun. I certainly can't rely on Tugger, for he can't even be trusted to make a decent cup of tea!"  
"Didn't Tugger mind though? You having a kitten with his brother?" I ask.  
"He took it rather well actually! He sulked and didn't speak to us for a week, so no great loss there! At the end of the day, he needs to understand that I am not his queen, nor am I Munkustrap's queen. I am my own queen and if I have to bruise some egos in order to get what I want, then so be it. I’m not being funny or anything, but what I required was a strong kitten and I certainly got that alright, for they don’t come much stronger than my Frozwyn. She practically bulldozed her way out of me and it was worth every painful second!" She smiles and gives her daughter a tender nuzzle.  
"So what do you all look for in a Tom?" I press on, to which they all smirk and exchange glances, but of course, it is Bombalurina who answers!  
"Well, obviously big, strong, good looking, reliable, smart, caring, and talented, in all the right areas if you catch my drift!" She gives me a sly wink and now it is my turn to feel my cheeks burning!  
"OK that is way too much information, I have now got an image in my head that really shouldn’t be there! Thanks for that Bomba!" I laugh, as Demeter continues,  
"He has to impress us with his singing and dancing too, so if a Tom wants to impress us then he had better make sure he can melt our hearts with his voice or drive us wild with his moves! Admittedly toms are under a great deal of pressure to be everything that we demand of them, but that's what we have to do in order to ensure we have the healthiest, strongest kittens possible so that they can grow up to be successful felines and keep our population healthy. It's just common sense. If a tom doesn't make the cut, he doesn't get the queens, simple as. Macavity forced his authority onto us, and that was how I ended up with Jemima, but Munkustrap has never forced any of us to do anything, for he loyally answers to us and it is us queens who chose him."  
"Munkustrap manages to be all of ze sings zat we demand of him, wizzout really trying or letting it go to is ed," says Jazzie. "Unlike some ozzer individuals we know, ee doesn't show off or brag about his talents, because he doesn't need to! Instead he humbly dedicates his life to caring for ozzers, and he can always be relied upon to lend a paw, especially here in ze Infirmary, so it was an honour for me to care for im in his hour of need. Ee manages to be kind and sensitive, but also strong and wise. However, zat is not to say zat ee is perfect, for he can be a little overly serious, not to mention a workaholic control freak at times, still we all love him just as much as he loves us, and our tribe would be a sadder place if we'd lost him. I fought so hard to keep him alive, zat I don't sink I slept for two days, because I felt like I owed him for risking his life in order to rescue my fellow nurses and me, giving us a second chance away from a life as Macavity's whores. Everyone deserves a second chance and in Munkustrap's case, he's had about five now I sink!"  
"Which reminds me," says Jemima, who is standing at the curtain, looking a little less green than she had done a minute ago, "we've planned a little surprise for Munkustrap. I'll say no more at the moment!" Bombalurina raises an eyebrow.   
"You know he hates surprises right? Count me in!"  
"Is it safe to come back now?" Munkustrap strides back in with a tray of steaming mugs, with Rum Tum Tugger holding two more in his paws, one of which he hands to me with a wink and a grin.  
"Halay friggin luja! You took your time, I'm dying of thirst here!" Snaps Bombalurina.

After we've drunk our tea and chatted for a bit, Munkustrap gets up to leave.   
"Jazzie, how about we give Zara a tour of the infirmary, before heading to the pub, after all it is getting on a bit? Bomb, will you be joining us?"  
"If Jazzie says it's ok?" she shrugs.  
"I sink zat should be alright,” says Jazzie, “as long as you take it easy! No heavy lifting! Unfortunately I must stay and care for ze sick kittens, Jennyanydots will go in my place."

Munkustrap and I follow Jazzie, whilst the others head off to the pub. First she shows us the kitchen where a stunning blue and cinnamon Abyssinian is stirring a massive pot of stew. She is introduced as Lucitana and she explains that she is making the stew for the patients. Jazzie opens a huge fridge freezer, where, next to the food, are bags full of saline solution and bloods.  
"We kindly get it donated to us from ze local vet,” she explains, “all sanks to ze publicity! Munkustrap, you're type B+ did you know zat?"  
"I do now."  
"Jazzie, why not just send sick felines to the vet?" I ask.  
"Oh we never send sick cats to ze vet, no way, because zey tend to do...ozzer sings...if you get my drift, plus ze charge a lot of money and if one cannot pay, zey kill us. So no. No vets."  
"Jazzie, do you realise that you are truly extraordinary? There aren't very many cat doctors out there, if any, so where did you learn all this?"  
"My ozzer home is ze University College London Hospital, so my owners are a family of nurses and doctors. I just observe, I learn and I am still learning, plus I now teach ze ozzers too. I taught Munkustrap how to do sutures and bandages, zo ee's not zat good!"  
"You said I wasn't that bad!" exclaims Munkustrap, looking slightly mortified.  
"Zere's always room for improvement,” Jazzie replies evenly, “you just need to practice a bit more zat’s all."  
Next we visit the operating theatre, which consists of a table, various machines and instruments, a sink and cabinets, before we head to the x-ray room and finally the kitten's ward, where I witness many sick kittens, with some suffering from pneumonia, others appearing to have what Jazzie calls Cat Pox, and various other ailments. They are all being tended to by an old golden Tabby queen, who Munkustrap introduces as his first mate Jennyanydots and I must say she is a lot older than him, but, mustn't judge Zara, mustn't judge!  
When she sees us she squeals and bustles over to us, clapping her paws over both our faces and planting a wet kiss on our cheeks. I think like her already, she seems so motherly!   
“Greetings to you all!” she exclaims, “I am indeed Jennyanydots, also known as The Gumbie Cat! I am the resident foster carer, nurse and midwife. I have delivered a great many of this tribe’s kittens,” she says proudly, “including this one!” She glances sideways at Munkustrap. As we begin to explain why I am here, I can’t help but notice a small brown and white patched kitten as he quietly sneaks up behind Munkustrap and attempts to pounce on his tail, however Munkustrap's tail moves out of the way just as he is about to land on it and he misses! But he doesn't give up, instead he hurls himself this way and that as he tries to catch that pesky tail, until finally he makes a grab for it and Munkustrap jolts as though an electric shock as just passed through him, caused by the little teeth sinking into his sensitive tail! He quickly snatches up the kitten, prizing it's claws away from his tail as delicately as he can, while on closer inspection I can see that this kitten is missing patches of fur, and that these patches are covered in large red, puss filled boils and flaking scabs.  
"Elijah!" says Jennyanydots sternly, "it is time for your bath! He has been giving me the run around all evening!" she explains.  
"I don't WANT bath!" Elijah squeals.  
"But you must have your special bath to help your skin get better. He has the pox!” she explains, “Most of us get it when we're kittens, but then we're immune to it ever after. I remember you getting it Munkustrap!"  
"I'd rather not!" laughs Munkustrap, "It's ok Jenny, we'll do it if you like." Jennyanydots sighs with relief,  
"That's very kind of you, dear! Do follow me." We follow her to a small tin bath full of warm water. Jennyanydots pours in some pink liquid (though it would look grey to her) and swirls it around with her paw.  
"Come on you," says Munkustrap to Elijah, "be a good kitten." He gently lowers the struggling Elijah into the water, holding him steady as Jennyanydots applies a white shampoo that smells strongly of tea tree oil to his fur and rubs it in, while she motions for me to rinse it off by gently splashing him with water, giggling as he kicks his legs, sending jets of water in our direction and getting my blouse wet! Finally the soggy kitten is lifted out of the bath and Munkustrap dries him with a towel, before carrying him to his bed.  
"Sleep now kit," the Tabby tells him firmly.   
"Please a want a bedtime story?" shrieks Elijah.  
"Alright!” sighs Munkustrap, “But you must promise to go to sleep and not give Jenny any more trouble you hear! And that goes for the rest you!" He glances at each of the other kittens, some of whom are now sat up, little eyes wide and ears pricked with curiosity. Munkustrap begins,  
"This is the story of The Happy Prince and the Sad Swallow..."  
"This is soooooo boring!" interrupts Elijah, pouting and crossing his arms in with an unimpressed huff.  
"Oh,” said Munkustrap, raising an eyebrow, “What story do you want then?"  
"Battle Pekes an Poyicles!" they all shout.  
"Not again! Are you sure you don't want to hear the story of the Happy Prince and The Sad Swallow?"  
"Nooooooo! Battle Pekes an Poyicles!"  
"Ok! Ok!" He clears his throat and begins to recount the tale that they all know so well, with the kittens doing all the,   
"Barks!" They LOVE it! But at long last they are all asleep and as we make our way quietly out of the room, Munkustrap whispers,   
"I must have sung that blasted poem over a hundred times now! I wish I had made it a little shorter!"  
When out of the room I ask Munkustrap, "Are these kittens yours too?"  
"Hell no!” he shakes his head, “These are all strays who have either been rescued or found wandering around lost. Jennyanydots and Jellylorum do a wonderful job of caring for them, just as they did me and my friends. They get a second chance at life, even though, sadly, many don't make it."

Just before we leave, Jazzie takes us to one more place. It is a small dusty room, containing a generator, a long wooden bench on which stand glass test tubes full of coloured liquid, various bottles, petri dishes and other instruments.   
"Zis is my lab,” she informs us, “where I conduct my experiments and next door is ze morgue. I sometimes have to conduct post mortems to try to ascertain how somecat died, so zat maybe I can use zat knowledge to help ozzers to live."  
"I was utterly appalled by that at first," says Munkustrap, "I mean, to my ignorant mind she was just cutting up dead cats. However Jennyanydots talked me round, reminding me not to close my mind to things I do not understand, to things that may seem abhorrent but are in fact necessary, for those who have died have indeed, gone on to save the lives of others." He looks sadly around the morgue, at the tables covered in white sheets, under which one can make out the forms of tiny bodies. "It feels strange to think that I very nearly ended up in here myself!" he says quietly, as if worried that the dead would hear him.  
Bidding Jazzie farewell, we walk with Jennyanydots out of a back entrance, which leads to the very edge of the scrapyard. In front of us is a patch of grass with many flat stones dotted about on top of small mounds and in front of one of the stones closest to us, Demeter, along with her daughter Jemima, stand solemnly with their heads bowed, while Jemima has placed a comforting arm around her mother. Munkustrap goes up to them and together we stand in somber silence, gazing at the stone. Scratched into the it, I can barely make out the words: Meritas. "Who was he?" I ask gently. There is silence, before Munkustrap whispers,   
"My son."  
"Macavity?"  
"We're not sure..." his voice is wracked with emotion and he quickly cuts himself off before it breaks completely.   
I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose a child and I feel a sudden longing to hold my own little boy in my arms, even though he is staying with his Nan tonight! At least I know that he is safe, for the same cannot be said for these grief stricken cats.  
"I'm so sorry. I'm a parent too..." I stumble over my words, tears of sympathy pricking the back of my eyes. Jennyanydots places a comforting paw on Munkustrap's shoulder and explains kindly to me,   
"After Munkustrap was injured, we think Meritas decided to go and find Macavity by himself, but was hit by a car just outside the yard. We aren't sure though, because his body was never found, just his little dancing shoe lying on the kerb. After a few months went by, we had to presume he was dead, so we buried the only thing we had of him, and that was his shoe. Poor silly little thing, he is missed so very much..." She dabs her eyes with a huge white hanky and blows her nose loudly. Jemima looks up, tears in her own eyes.   
"Life hasn't been the same since I lost my little brother,” she says quietly, “I think the not knowing is the worst part, and not being able to say goodbye..." Demeter is sobbing again. Poor love, I am surprised that she has any tears left to cry to be honest. Making a decision, I decide to do the only thing I can think of.   
"Group hug?" I ask, opening my arms.

We finally arrive at The Wellington Arms, which, Munkustrap informs me, used to be called The Old Bull And Bush, a pretty nondescript old building just off the main high street, with a large sign showing a picture of the Duke of Wellington's coat of Arms creaking in the breeze. People are walking passed, but they do not appear to have noticed the pub or us for that matter. Munkustrap nods to the massive police dog sat outside.   
"Ronald." The dog nods in reply,  
"Munkustrap."  
"Any sign of trouble tonight?" the Tabby asks.  
"Nope. All's quiet. Just a few drunks." Munkustrap nods again, pushes the heavy wooden door embedded with a large stained glass window, holding it open for us. We enter into a dimly lit, cosy room, with tables and chairs surrounding a central play area where kittens are playing. There is an old stone fireplace coveting a roaring fire at one end, along with a wooden bar situated front of us. The whole place is packed to the rafters with cats, either seated at tables, talking and drinking or standing at the bar. At the other end of the room is a stage where a band plays soft jazz music. Unsurprisingly we quickly spot the extravagant mane of Rum Tum Tugger, attempting to chat up a rather bored looking brown spotted tabby barmaid, who looks as if she is about to nod off. She desperately looks around for someone to rescue her, and positively lights up like a Christmas tree when she sees us.  
"Munkustrap!” she says animatedly, “Alright love? I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you, rescue me from him will you please? What can I get you all? And for the last time Tugger, I do not have any Moonshine! There's full cream, semi, skimmed or soya. What's it do be?"  
"Oh Lilly La Rose!” complains Rum Tum Tugger, “What’s with all these rubbish choices? I'll take the Moonshine!"  
"Grrrrrrr!" Lilly glares at him dangerously, but quickly snaps back to her usual smiley self when Munkustrap addresses her.  
"I'll have a small glass of full cream please Lilly and also the fish goujons to share." Munkustrap turns to me with a questioning look in his eyes.  
"Oh...er...the same?" I stutter. He directs the same look at the others. Demeter goes for semi, Jemima goes for the same and Jenny opts for skimmed,   
"Because I'm on a diet!" Wondering what the hell I've just ordered, I watch Munkustrap as pays using some coins that appear to have been tucked inside his collar and hands me a small glass of, milk? Oh I get it, it's a milk bar! But then again, I should have guessed really, these being cats and everything!  
"Hello Munkustrap!" A grizzled old tom with greying copper fur is cleaning glasses with an old rag and he speaks with a Cornish accent. Munkustrap smiles and greets him like an old friend,  
"Good evening Admetus. How is business these days?"  
"It's picked up a bit since you was working ere Munkustrap. We got some amazing young chefs working out back, plus we now get milk delivered straight from that there dairy, instead of that dodgy wholesaler." He lowers his voice to a whisper, eyes darting around the room. "There is one thing I'd like to warn yous about. As you well know, I hears a lota things when I is workin ere and I's eard whisperings."  
"Whisperings?" Munkustrap’s eyes have narrowed slightly while his tail begins to twitch, as he leans in closer.  
"Aye, whisperings,” Admetus continues, “apparently Macavity's about, so we'd best be on our guard. There were rumours that he was dead, but they was quashed when Maggie Tindall's flower shop were broken into last week, and theys found red fur on the window frame. My guess is he's pretty peeved about his missing eye, so I'd watch ur step if I was you Munkustrap. Seems he wants an eye in return." Munkustrap sighs,   
"Well perhaps you will get to meet my brother," he says with nervous half smile, “but then again, you may not, for they do not call him The Hidden Paw for nothing.” Almost involuntarily, I feel a shiver creep up my back.  
We carry our drinks and food over to a large table where Bombalurina is sitting next to Alonzo, nursing her kitten. We have only just sat down when the door suddenly flies open and we all look round, startled at the figure who is now standing in the doorway. A huge shape is silhouetted against the misty night and I hold my breath, as in totters a huge, fluffy Maine Coon. His fur is grey with age and you can barely make out his eyes through the folds of his wise old face. He shuffles towards us and seems to be in grave danger of falling over, were it not for a small black tom with a white chest supporting him, and he is clearly well known, for the entire pub erupts with happy cheers and cries of,   
"Old Deuteronomy!"  
In a flash, Munkustrap is by his side, taking over from the black tom and guiding him to a seat.   
"Father this is a pleasant surprise,” he shouts happily over the din, “What brings you here? Zara, won’t you come and meet our great leader Old Deuteronomy?"  
I take his huge paw in my hands, feeling as completely awestruck as the rest of the Jellicles by this reverent cat.   
"I am truly honoured sir,” I bow my head respectfully, “I have heard that you are a legend among cats." He chuckles, a great booming sound which echoes around the room, and gazes into my eyes with his wise orange ones, which are faded like the mists of time. Meanwhile the young black cat walks up to Munkustrap and while the two briefly embrace one another, I notice that Mistoffelees is carrying in the crook of his arm, a tiny kitten who looks exactly like him, only in miniature. Turning to me, Munkustrap introduces us.  
"Zara, allow me to introduce to you, at last, my son Mistoffelees and my grandson Quaxo Junior. Mistoffelees, where have you been? We have been all over the yard looking for you, but never mind that now, I was wondering if you would help our guest, for she has lost something very precious to her?" Mistoffelees smiles knowingly and holds up a finger, motioning for us to wait, then he hands Quaxo Junior to Munkustrap. With a wave of his arms, the lights fade, the entire room is then plunged into darkness. Silence descends. Over on the stage, a small blue light appears, growing steadily larger like a blue bubble, until, with a blinding ‘FLASH!’ Mistoffelees suddenly appears in a cloud of sparkles. To gasps and cheers, he performs the most phenomenal magic show, which includes fireworks and blue fire, as well as a flock of white doves which clatter noisily out of a black top hat. For the finale, he uses a lassu made of light to drag me up to the stage, where I stand nervously, feeling many pairs of eyes on me, as he holds out a red handkerchief with something glowing underneath it. He motions for me to pull it off and so, just as I am told, I grab hold of the silky red material and whip it away, while he blows sparkles from his mouth towards it and shouts,   
"PRESTO!" There in his paw, is my engagement ring!   
"You found it!” I squeal in amazement, “Thank you so much!" I am so overcome with relief that, before he can react, I throw my arms around him and plant a kiss on his furry cheek. He looks a little embarrassed as he wipes his cheek with the back of his paw! Then we bow and exit the stage as Rum Tum Tugger leaps up to the microphone.  
"Give a round of applause for our resident magician and inventor everybody, more commonly known to us as The Magical Mister Mistoffelees! But then you already knew that! We're gathered here tonight in honour of a very special cat, no it's not you this time Old Deut, and I can assure you I have not been at the catnip. At least not tonight anyway! Now, this person usually does all the announcing, but tonight I am the one who will be taking over, as he spends pretty much all of his time bigging up all you cats, and looking after you kittens, yet he never seems to make any time for himself, so I thought he deserved a bit of appreciation for once. You know as well as I do how close we came to losing him last year, all because he put our safety before his own, and sometimes we are in danger of forgetting how much this cat means to us, for we rarely let him know how much love there is for him in here!” He beats his chest with his fist to indicate his heart. “I am talking,” he continues “of course, about my awesome Bro! Now I know I make your life hell, and yes, at times, I can be unbearable, but it's just because I am overwhelmed by your awesomeness, and I know that I don't ever say this, but I'm gonna say it now. I love you man! Each one of us is gonna do something on this stage to honour you, starting with me. Munkustrap I dedicate this song to you, for it is just one of the many songs that I sang to you while I sat at your bedside in the Infirmary, hour after hour, hoping you were gonna wake up.” Delicately he picks at his guitar strings with his claws and starts to sing,

“The road is long  
With many a winding turn  
That leads us to who knows where  
Who knows when  
But I'm strong  
Strong enough to carry him  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go  
His welfare is of my concern  
No burden is he to bear  
We'll get there  
For I know  
He would not encumber me  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all  
I'm laden with sadness  
That everyone's heart  
Isn't filled with the gladness  
Of love for one another

It's a long, long road  
From which there is no return  
While we're on the way to there  
Why not share  
And the load  
Doesn't weigh me down at all  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

He's my brother  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother…”

(He Ain't Heavy by The Hollies)

There is not a dry eye in the room! Before we have time to wipe our eyes, Tugger carries on,  
"This next song is called My Hero, would you care to help me out Bro?" He holds out a Gibson SG guitar and Munkustrap, who has appeared at the edge of the stage, takes it and places the strap over his shoulder. Alonzo is sat behind a huge drum kit, poised and ready, Excetera brandishes a tambourine and Electra is on bass guitar, while two mystical looking cat twins introduced as Coricopat and Tantomile are on the double Yamaha keyboard.  
"Thank you Tugger,” says Munkustrap, once the clapping, cheering and wolf whistling as died down, “that song has cheered us all up no end. You do realise I'm not dead, that this is me, and not some apparition?"  
"Yeah but it's my favourite song though!" says Rum Tum Tugger rather defensively.  
"Oookaaay, are you sure you don't need a stint in the Infirmary?” Munkustrap shots him a sideways glance, before beaming at the faces which are peering up at him, “Anyway, greetings to you all! This is highly embarrassing for me, but thank you for this surprise, you know I hate surprises right? But I think I can just about tolerate this one, for you don't know how much appreciation I have for you all. Thank you for your love and support, and also for waiting so patiently for me, for I would be nothing without you. I love you all so much, and as for you Tugger, you know you're my hero right, even though you didn’t really do a lot of carrying did you? You did do a fair amount of fainting from what I hear..!"  
“Yeah, let’s just get on with the song shall we?” says Rum Tum Tugger, as the room erupts into ill concealed titters and muffled chortling. He signals to Alonzo, who strikes the drums, the band starts up and the pair start to sing,

"Too alarmin' now to talk about  
Take your pictures down and shake it out  
Truth or consequence, say it aloud  
Use that evidence, race it around  
There goes my hero  
Watch him as he goes  
There goes my hero  
He's ordinary  
Don't the best of them bleed it out  
While the rest of them peter out?  
Truth or consequence, say it aloud  
Use that evidence, race it around  
There goes my hero  
Watch him as he goes  
There goes my hero  
He's ordinary  
Kudos, my hero, leavin' all the best  
You know my hero, the one that's on  
There goes my hero  
Watch him as he goes  
There goes my hero  
He's ordinary  
There goes my hero  
Watch him as he goes  
There goes my hero  
He's ordinary!"

(My Hero by The Foo Fighters)

"Right,” announces Munkustrap, “this next and final song should hopefully have you all on your feet if you aren't already. It is dedicated to..."  
"Munkustrap!” interrupts Rum Tum Tugger, “stop with the dedications already, you just can't help yourself can you?"  
"But this tribe isn't just about me Tugger, don't you see?” Munkustrap reasons, “It is about all of us, for every single one of us is important and anyway, I couldn’t NOT dedicate this song to our gorgeous queen Bombalurina, who, has been through hell and back, but she is here tonight ladies and gentletoms. My dear, this one's for you and Frozwyn! The song is called Fire Woman, take it away Tugger!"

"Wound up, can't sleep, can't do anything right, little honey,  
Oh, since I set my eyes on you  
I tell you the truth  
T-t-t-twistin' like a flame in a slow dance, baby  
You're driving me crazy  
Come on, little honey, come on now  
Fire, smoke she is a rising  
Fire, yeah smoke on the horizon  
Fire, smoke she is a rising  
Fire, oh smoke stack lightning, smoke stack lightning  
Well, shake it up, you're to blame, got me swayin' little honey  
My heart's a ball of burnin' flame  
Oh, yes it is  
Prancing like a cat on a hot tin shack,  
Lord, have mercy come on little sister, come on and shake it  
Fire, smoke she is a rising  
Fire, oh smoke on the horizon  
Fire, smoke she is a rising  
Fire, oh smoke stack lightning baby  
I was thinking what I've been missing  
I'll tell you truthfully, well  
She's coming close now  
Oh, I can feel her  
She's getting close to me  
And I never, yeah  
Fire, smoke, she is a rising  
Fire, oh smoke on the horizon  
Fire smoke, she is a a risin', risin', risin' fire  
Smokestack lightnin'  
Aj-j-j, burnin' out  
And shake it, baby  
Come on and burn it  
I say, send down fire to me  
Say, send down fire to me, say, send down fire to me, yeah  
Fire woman, you're to blame  
Fire woman, you're to blame  
Fire woman, you're to blame  
Fire woman, you're to blame!"

As the pair thrash their guitars and reach the highs of, "FIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!" The whole pub is up and dancing, while chairs and tables magically disappear to the side and even Old Deuteronomy is up on his feet, this time using my arm for support. When Munkustrap and Tugger have finished their set, they leap down from the stage and are greeted warmly by the crowd of adoring felines.   
At the same time, I notice that four silhouettes have appeared onstage, and as the lime lights beam down on them, the music starts up and Doctor Jazzie, along with her glamorous assistants, Hortenseya, Lucitana and Norstara the silver Egyptian Mau, begin to strut their stuff and shake their thing, while Jazzie explains,   
“We wrote zis little song about Munkustrap for ze last Jellicle Ball, because we were shocked when we learnt zat Protectors traditionally do not usually receive dedications, for ze simple reason zat zey are either too busy or zey do not live long enough to receive one! So we decided to put zat right ladies and gentle toms. Without further ado, we graciously dedicate zis song to you, our most humble of heroes! I hope you like ze surprise?” Then, in a beautiful clear voice, she starts to sing, 

“His name is Munkustrap  
The bravest cat of all  
You can count on him  
Our mighty Protector  
To be there when you call

The world can be a scary place  
When you’re only two feet tall  
But there’s a hero among us  
The bravest of them all  
For though he can be fierce  
He is honorable and kind  
You can ask him for a story  
But he finds it hard to unwind

His name is Munkustrap  
The bravest cat of all,  
You can count on him  
Our mighty Protector  
To be there when you call

This Bengcoon’s seen many a scuffle  
Although you’d hardly know  
For he is silver with black stripes  
From his head down to his toe  
He puts himself in between us  
And the danger that lurks outside  
While we stand behind him  
That’s where the kittens like to hide

His name is Munkustrap  
The bravest cat of all,  
You can count on him  
Our mighty Protector  
To be there when you call

Oh Munkustrap,  
You’re our flame, forever burning bright  
May you always be there to scare the thunder from the night  
Oh Munkustrap  
from our hearts we send our love  
The Everlasting cat surrounds you and watches you from above

So when faced with mortal danger  
No coward is he  
From pollicle, rat to Macavity  
He’d gladly fight all three  
But he’s also a family Tom  
With many wives to choose  
He is very good at winning  
But he doesn’t like to lose!

His name is Munkustrap!  
The bravest cat of all,  
You can count on him  
Our mighty Protector  
To be there when you call

Munkustrap  
Munkustrap  
Munkustrap  
Munkustrap!”

 

When they are finished, they rush over to us and throw themselves at Munkustrap, who picks each of them up in turn and spins them around, pausing to give Jazzie a passionate kiss! Meanwhile other cats succeed them with performance acts ranging from singing, acrobatics, comedy, clowning and dancing, making this the most spectacular variety show I have ever been to and it is all in honour of One Cat. Over the din I manage to dance near to Munkustrap, who is dancing with Rum Tum Tugger, Jazzie, Lucitana, Norstara, Hortenseya, Demeter and Bombalurina.  
"This is awesome!” I yell, “How does it feel to have such a dedication? It was all Jemima's idea by the way!"  
"Remind me to have a word with her later!” he shouts back, “I am finding all this rather excruciating if I am honest! But there is so much love in this room right now, that I am feeling slightly overwhelmed. Being alive never felt better!” Suddenly the smile and quite possibly the colour too, drains from his face.  
“Munkustrap, is everything alright?” I ask, as his head whips around towards the wooden door, his pricked ears straining to catch a sound that one one else seems to have heard, and then his eyes dilate in foreboding recognition.   
“Oh no!" he whispers.   
The mood suddenly changes as though someone has flicked a switch, and it doesn't take me long to figure out why! A deafening ‘CRAAAAASH!’ shatters the happy go lucky atmosphere as the stained glass door blasts inwards, sending jagged beads of iridescent glass flying everywhere like deadly water droplets. The room is filled with the terrified screams and shrieks of,   
“MACAVITY!” as panic stricken cats run in all directions, some diving for cover under chairs and tables while others shoot over the bar and out to the cellar. Almost immediately, Old Deuteronomy and the kittens are quickly gathered up, bundled towards the back of the pub, surrounded by an angry wall of queens and a defiantly growling Alonzo. Dave and I hurriedly join them and I find myself huddling next to Bombalurina who is trying to juggle a wailing Frozwyn in one paw while simultaneously comforting a violently quivering Demeter with the other.   
“Oh dear!” she whispers to me, “Someone’s pissed about not being invited to the party!”  
Before long, the only cat left standing in the middle of the room is Munkustrap. As he stares down the impending threat, his fur and shoulders puff up, his tail thrashes from side to side and he slowly crouches down. His body is tensed and primed, like a coiled spring, ready to meet head on, whatever it is that is about to come bursting through the gap, that only a few seconds ago had been a rather attractive door. It all looks like a well rehearsed fire drill, but I can tell that this is no drill. I have a sick feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach and my palms are sweaty, yet at the same time I feel a cold shiver crawl up my spine as if some vile creature has touched me with its claws. Out of the darkness comes a bone chilling, mirthless laugh. Munkustrap answers by flattening his ears, baring his teeth and letting out a loud hiss like an antagonised cobra, in the hope that this will be enough to ward off the intruder. Unfortunately, it is a vain hope, for the doorway is suddenly filled by a monstrous shadow, which slowly and deliberately steps out of the gloom to reveal what can only be described as a terrifying fiend with a vaguely feline form. His presence fills the room, while his long matted fur, ginger with white zigzag stripes, makes me wonder whether he is the devil incarnate, as he brandishes his long jagged claws which resemble daggers, while glowering menacingly at us with a single amber eye. All that is left of his other eye is an unseeing white orb, which only adds to his terrifying appearance. When his good eye lands on Munkustrap, it narrows and his mouth opens in a grimace, showing a keen set of yellow teeth.  
"You!" he growls in a deep, rasping voice, like claws scraping down a blackboard, "still alive I see, did I not kill you enough? What will it take I wonder?" Munkustrap glares back and straightens up, but remains remarkably calm despite the rapidly unfurling situation. The atmosphere inside of this room is now so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife, and everything seems to be happening in slow motion. I am petrified. I cannot move and I cannot scream. All I can do is huddle closer into Bombalurina and pray that he doesn’t turn his horrific features in my direction.  
"Good evening brother,” Munkustrap welcomes Macavity, although there is not a hint of warmth in his voice, “so nice of you to want to join our little celebration, surely we don't have to fight. Come and have a drink with us, just for a change?" Macavity picks up a glass of milk with his claws and sneers at Munkustrap's attempts at diplomacy.  
"So this is what you call 'drink'?" He asks. He hurls the glass at Munkustrap as if he just insulted him. Munkustrap ducks out of the way just in time, the glass shattering behind him and splashing us all with milk. Macavity glares at the barmaid.  
"Haven't you got anything stronger?" he growls. She hisses,  
“Get outa ma pub, you flea-bitten carpet! I told you you was barred, so kindly CLEAR OFF!”  
Ignoring her, Macavity smashes more glasses and slowly stalks towards Munkustrap.  
"I think I would rather choke on my own hairball than have a drink with you little brother, even if the selection on offer were not so, sparse. The only thing I want to see is your disfigured head on my wall, a tramp wearing your pelt and maybe one of my rats wearing your tail for a scarf! Are you really so naive, that you would think that I would want to make friends after you did this?" He angrily jabs a claw in the direction of his missing eye. Munkustrap shrugs.   
"It suits you."  
"You also murdered five of my best fighters in cold blood, therefore I am going to make you pay! I am going to pull your guts out through your nostrils and feed them to your precious queens and I shall then see to it that you are screaming for mercy even as you breathe your last!"  
"Well what are you waiting for brother?” snaps Munkustrap impatiently, “I haven't got all night!"  
“Very well!” Macavity roars and lunges towards him, but is stopped in his tracks by Lilly La Rose as she dives in front of Munkustrap, brandishing a corkscrew. She spits venomously at him.  
"How dare you come in here terrorizing my good customers, who do you think you are? Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough earlier. You. Are. Barred! That means you’re about as welcome here as a plague of mosquitoes! This pub is my livelihood and I will defend it with my flesh and blood if I have to! SO GO ON! SLING YER HOOK!" Macavity laughs that evil laugh, shaking with gleeful mirth and pointing a condescending claw at Munkustrap.  
“Getting pathetic little wretches to fight our battles for us are we?” he seethes, “I always knew you were weak, little brother, but this is on another level. Killing you both is going to be most enjoyable and I’ll barely even be out of breath!” Munkustrap growls, baring his teeth. His claws are extended.  
"I don't think you heard our good Landlady brother,” he hisses in reply, “Perhaps I should escort you off the premises, seeing as you have declined my offer of hospitality. Now, which way would you like to go? There is the option of the door, but there’s also the window if you’d prefer?" Macavity continues to laugh mockingly. Before Munkustrap can stop her, Lilly snarls and lunges at him, her corkscrew pointing straight at his chest, but he simply grabs her and throws her against the wall like she is nothing more than a broken doll. Then he does the thing that I was dreading. He slowly turns his head and glares in my direction, but it isn’t me he is looking at, but Bombalurina, and I suddenly notice why. Frozwyn is bawling her eyes out inconsolably, despite Bombalurina’s best efforts to calm her down. Macavity sneers,   
“Aw,” he says sarcastically, “How, sweet. Is the brat yours?” he asks Munkustrap, “What a fine addition to my collection she would make. I hear you have already lost one of your sons. Tut tut. How careless.” Munkustrap’s eyes narrow dangerously and his paws ball into fists. Macavity has found a nerve and he knows it.  
“Where is he Mac?” Munkustrap snarls.  
“Oh wouldn’t you love to know?” laughs Macavity, “I can see the torture in your eyes, and I don’t even have to lift a finger!”  
“And yet you will be the one who rots in Hell!” spits Munkustrap. Something finally snaps and they go for eachother, claws aiming for throats. It is a terrifying sight to behold and the sound of claws ripping through fur is sickening. I cover my ears.   
“Be careful Munkustrap!” I silently plea, “Isn’t anyone going to help him?” I look around and spot Rum Tum Tugger’s mane, trembling behind the bar. He pokes his head up briefly and catches my eye, but then shakes his head and ducks back under the counter again, as the two huge cats in the middle of the room fight it out like a couple of wild beasts. Roaring and snarling like panthers, they get each other in a grapple, each Tom trying to knock the other off balance. All of a sudden Macavity gets an unexpected knee to the stomach and falls to the ground, clutching his abdomen, the evil smile now a distant memory. Munkustrap takes this opportunity to quickly run over to me.   
“Are you alright?” he pants. He doesn’t wait for an answer, but goes to check on Bombalurina and Demeter.   
“Look out Munkustrap!” I scream. He whirls around just in time to see a red blur flying towards him. He dives to the side, bringing his legs around and managing to kick Macavity’s out from under him, sending him sprawling across the floor. But Macavity is on his feet in an instant and dives for Munkustrap again, but Munkustrap dodges this second attack too, landing another kick in Macavity's side and sending him crashing into some tables. With his chest heaving, it is now Munkustrap's turn to laugh.  
"What's wrong brother?” he mocks, “Getting slow in your old age? Why not just give up now eh?"  
In a fit a rage, Macavity screams, "NEVER! ARRRRGGGGHHHH!" With murder in his crazed eye and talons itching to flay the hated tabby alive, he charges like a raging bull in a china shop. Munkustrap is ready. He waits for just the right moment, and utilizing all of his strength, uses the momentum to pick the larger and heavier cat up and propel him straight out of the window. The glass explodes with an ear shattering sound. It is followed by a dull, ‘THUD!’ And then. Silence.  
No one even dares to breathe. Nothing stirs, accept for a moan coming from Lilly and the muffled whimpers of frightened kittens. We are all staring from Munkustrap to the now absent window and back again. Out of curiosity, cats start to creep forward, but Munkustrap holds up his paw and they freeze. Nose twitching he slowly makes his way to the doorless doorway and pokes his head out.  
"Macavity's not there!" he calls, and cats join him to gawp at the empty high street just to be sure that the Hidden Paw has truly scarpered, including Lilly, who is holding a bloody rag to her head but seems otherwise unhurt.  
"AND STAY OUT!" she hollers into the night. There is an audible sigh of relief as one by one, cats crawl out of their hiding places and begin to clear up the broken glass. "Now where is that useless police guard dog?” Lilly demands angrily, “Some protection he turned out to be!"  
"Uh, I think he's over there," says Munkustrap. Sure enough, there is a large Alsatian, out cold, lying across the pavement. "I hope he's ok. Sorry about the window Lilly, I'll pay for the damage." Lilly shakes her head,  
"You'll do no such thing Munkustrap! However, I shall be sending a rather large bill to that bastard that just wrecked my pub! You, my dear, are a hero! To Munkustrap everybody!"  
"To Munkustrap!" We all shout, ignoring his protests of,  
"It was nothing, I was just doing my job..." On re-entering the pub, he is practically rugby tackled by a load of cats. With kittens clinging to him and adults clamouring for his attention, he wades over to Bombalurina and Demeter, nuzzling them both and taking the still screaming Frozwyn from her fraught mother. As he gently rocks her back to sleep, I notice the bloody welts on his shoulders.   
“Munkustrap, you’re bleeding!” I exclaim. He glances over at his shoulder, having only just realised himself, but dismisses it.  
“It’s just a scratch,” he reassures me, though this doesn’t stop Doctor Jazzie from spurring into action with a cloth and a tube of ointment. She shakes her head and scolds him,  
“Just a scratch indeed! Honestly!”  
“I shouldn’t have gone for him like that,” Munkustrap admits, shaking his head guiltily, “But I got so angry! He should not have threatened my family!”  
“I would have done the exact same thing if someone was threatening my child,” I say, proudly, “If I had a hat I would take it off to you sir!” To my delight I get a one armed hug! ‘Squeeeeee!’  
“Careful!” he says, “Don’t get blood on you!” I don’t mind, that has just made my evening that has!   
Rum Tum Tugger appears from seemingly nowhere to give his brother a congratulatory pat on the back, and without looking up, Munkustrap addresses him, "Thank you so much for the support Tugger, you know it was greatly appreciated as always."  
"Ah you know me,” says Rum Tum Tugger with a shrug, “didn't want to cramp your style. Besides, you seemed to be doing alright back there. Now. Where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted? Ah yes! Don't you worry brother, I got this! DJ Tugger in da HOOOUUUUUSE!" He dons a pair of headphones, steps behind a set of decs and music blasts through the room. There are claps and cheers, and we celebrate well into the night, until Macavity is an almost forgotten memory.

The sky is beginning to lighten as Dave and I return to the van.  
"AHEM HEM?" I whirl round to find Munkustrap and a few other cats standing there. A few curious scamps leap onto the bonnet and have a good sniff and roll around. I am a little confused, but then suddenly I remember!  
"Oh sorry Munkustrap, I almost forgot!" Dave hands me a large cardboard box, which I hand over to Munkustrap, who hands it to Demeter, who hands it to another cat, who shouts,   
"FISHY TREATS!" and runs off with it.  
"Save some for me Pouncival!" Calls Munkustrap.  
"Can't believe I almost forgot to pay you for such a marvelous interview. I have learnt so much about you and your lives, I will never look at cats in the same way again!"  
"Thank you Zara. Should you ever wish to visit us again, know that you will be more than welcome."  
As I drive away, I glance in my rear view mirror. But all I see is a small silver tabby cat, sitting on the pavement watching the van. When I glance back a moment later, the street is completely deserted, leaving me wondering if I had imagined it all!

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of information about my stories.  
> Now, before you go all closed minded on me, please hear me out. Even though they exist in both feline and humanoid form, my characters are Cats, ok. NOT humans. So while humans are a largely monogamous species (though not naturally, but that's not something I am about to discuss here) cats are polygamous, and that applies to both sexes. A male Tom cat can have hundreds of mates, while, did you know that females can produce a litter of kittens sired by different males? No I didn't either, until I did some research, (which I highly recommend you do before writing any story.) Other things I found out were: cats DO NOT sweat. (Seriously, when was the last time YOU stroked a sweaty cat? Tell me, because I'd love to know!) When they overheat, they pant like dogs do, and actually, dehydration can be a real problem for them. They cannot eat plant food. Their bodies evolved to cope with a high quality meat based diet only and things like cat biscuits can actually be bad for them, while foods like onions, garlic, grapes, chocolate, caffeine and alcohol are incredibly poisonous to them. They have a special organ in the roof of their mouths called the Jacobson's organ with they use to 'taste' smells, which explains why a cat will turn his nose up at supermarket value fish fingers and go for the dearer branded product without so much as taking a nibble. Tom cats also use it to detect whether or not a female is in heat. Cats have protanopia, meaning they have have more rods in the back of the eye for detecting light, than cones, which detect colour. Therefore, they cannot see the colours red or green. They are also nearsighted, which is a real problem for my cats and explains why they have to wear spectacles to carry out tasks. Of course, my version of Jellicle cats are slightly different to your average moggy in that they are more sociable. Cats are such amazing creatures, that I was keen for mine to keep their amazing attributes whilst at the same time adding a few more. They can morph, from feline form to small humanoid at will and each possesses a skill or magic power. I gave them an element of human to make it easier for us to identity with them while also making them civilised. I was keen to explore the difficulties a cat might face in our human world if they tried to be more like us, as in Doctor Jazzie, whose colour blindness and short sightedness, whilst being very useful when out on a dark night hunting for mice, makes a simple task such as treating a wound, writing notes or reading, very difficult! When you do comparisons between species like this, it makes you realise just how amazing we humans really are! I chose to make their society a matriarchal democratic one, just because it seemed like a radical, but interesting idea in this day and age, with Munkustrap as the dominant male, rather like a pride male, there to father the kittens and protect the tribe from danger, but not much else. The females do all the decision making. Being the dominant or alpha male, you guessed it, he takes the lion's share of the queens. It solves the problem of who's screwing who, and it was too much of a temptation to explore the issues that come up with this arrangement, as well as the advantages. By mating with Munkustrap, the queens ensure that their offspring will have good genes by choosing the strongest male. Yeah, so some lose out? So what? Nature is a bitch and she hasn't got time for niceties. And until Andrew Lloyd Webber brings out the rule book, Cats is always going to be open to a bit of artistic interpretation and that's the beauty of it, making it one of the most popular musicals to write about.  
> One more thing. I have described Munkustrap as a Beng Coon or Bengal leopard Maine coon cross. For anyone who says that Munkustrap is a British shorthair, have you seen a British Shorthair? It looks like the cat equivalent of the British bulldog. I.e. Not sexy. Munkustrap really fits the bill for a Bengal, it being one of most intelligent breeds (Munkustrap wouldn't be a leader if he was as thick as two short planks would he?), they are large, fast, come in a myriad of gorgeous colours and have a unique lustre to their fur. They are beautiful Cats, just like Munkustrap and his brother Rum Tum Tugger. As for the Maine Coon part, well, he clearly got that from his dad, Old Deuteronomy.


End file.
